


Through It All

by dontshootmespence



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Anxiety, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Breathplay, Breeding, Cock Cages, Cockwarming, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Dildos, Doggy Style, Dom Spencer Reid, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Double Penetration, Edging, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Glasses, Hand Jobs, Lactation Kink, Light Bondage, Massage, Masturbation, Objectification, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Panty Kink, Pegging, Phone Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Spencer Reid, Subspace, Switching, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, ballgags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 51,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence
Summary: A follow-up story to The Most Natural Thing In The World.Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Paris was beautiful. What you’d seen of it at least. Every moment you weren’t outside was spent either making love or fucking like bunnies; you’ll categorize it as a good mix of the two.

Coming home to a place you share is better than you ever imagined. It’s taken a little while to get used to Spencer’s new working schedule, but apart from that your relationship has progressed organically to where it is now. You’re his confidant, his wife, his submissive and the hopeful mother of his children.

Your period is a few days late, so on the way home from work you’d grab a pregnancy test. On your heels, you bounce up and down, waiting with bated breath for the five minutes to be up. You’re like a kid on Christmas waiting for the gift you asked for most of all.

As you slip into the bathroom, almost tip-toeing (as if being loud will change the results), your heart begins to race. You want to tell Spencer he’s going to be a father more than anything. You want to be a mother more than anything.

Hands shaking, you hesitantly reach for the unassuming stick, hoping it says what you want it to. You’re standing on the edge of the world.

Not Pregnant.

Tears gather in your eyes almost instantly, your lip trembling more than you’d imagined it would. Sure, you want to be pregnant. You want to give Spencer that news. But you have all the time in the world, right? So why are you so upset?

The creaking of the door alerts you to Spencer’s presence. What normally makes you melt in anticipation, startles you today. “Y/N! I’m home,” he bellows, not knowing where you are.

“Be right out!” You yell back, hoping he can’t detect your quivering tone. Quickly, you wipe the tears from your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Each breath is shaky as you leave the bathroom to greet your husband; it’s almost like your insides are vibrating at a speed your body can’t handle. “How was work?” You ask.

“Work was great,” he replies, setting his book bag down on the floor before sinking into the couch, eyes closed in content contemplation. “I’m definitely going to get used to teaching. It’s nice to come home to my lovely wife and not have a case hanging over my head.” He looks so at ease; it looks good on him.

When he opens his eyes though, he immediately knows.

Damn profiler.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning up from the back of the couch to extend his hand. “What happened?”

Your friends always ask what the cons are in your relationship. There’s not a lot, but being a complete open book for Spencer to read as he pleases is occasionally unnerving. “It’s nothing,” you say, the note of denial in your voice giving you away.

Spencer’s gaze switches from loving husband to loving dom in a second flat. “Don’t lie to me. I can tell.”

As you go to open your mouth, the tears start to flow. “No, it’s nothing really. I swear. I just…my period is a couple days late, and it usually isn’t, so I went to get a pregnancy test. It said I wasn’t pregnant.”

Leaning his head against yours, back heavy against the couch, he squeezes your shoulder, as if soothing the pain away with each pass of his soft fingers. “Oh, love. We have all the time in the world. I know it’s upsetting, but that just means we get to try harder.”

There’s a combination of disappointment, hope and cheekiness swirled in his honeyed voice. When you turn to him, his smirk is blanketed by the slight sadness in his eyes, but you forge forward with hope. “Yea?”

“Absolutely,” he says as he clears his throat, standing with his hand outstretched. “As a matter of fact, I think we have work to do.”

With a snort, you wipe away a tear and clasp his hand. A peace washes over you. Something about his soft yet unyielding touch, the warmth of his eyes and the light of his smile pulls you from your bad thoughts. It doesn’t always lead you to better ones, but his presence allows you to be; here in his arms, you’re safe.

“We can do anything you want, love. What do you need?”

“Gimme that plain vanilla all the way.” It isn’t always about the kinkiest sex in all the land. Many times it’s just about feeling safe, not having to think about anything while he takes the lead.

Grabbing the backs of your thighs, Spencer lifts you up and carries you toward the bed, cradling you into the mattress as he peels the newly-washed comforter down to the foot of the bed. Thankfully, you’re close to the mattress when he falters and drops you. “Clumsy fool,” you giggle.

“I’m your clumsy fool.”

“My clumsy fool husband,” you say proudly.

“Do you know how much I love hearing you call me husband? How many times a day I say ‘my wife?’ It’s a lot. I think my students are already sick of it. But I also don’t care.”

While he peels off his clothing, you do the same, giving him a little tease as you slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, reveal inch after inch of skin. He guides the button down shirt off his shoulders and you lick at his skin, scraping your teeth and lips over the broad expanse of his chest, hands following in their wake, tracing the patterns you make like constellations. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been hours, Mrs. Reid,” he chuckles.

“Too many.”

Smiling, he dips toward you, slipping his tongue into your waiting mouth while he wriggles his way out of his pants. He’s fully naked now, he’s cock standing full against his stomach and that little happy trail you love so much.

He might be about to take care of you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love the teasing; watching the look in his eyes grow darker and darker and knowing what’s in store when he finally gets his hands on you.

Without breaking eye contact, you hook your thumbs into your panties and glide them up your legs, spreading them for his viewing pleasure as you throw the lace to the floor. “So wet,” you breathe.

“Is that all for me?”

Spencer pushes himself back on his knees and comes to lie in front of you with his head sitting pretty between your legs. Sometimes you wonder about having control, watching as you hold his head between your legs and make him eat you out. Another time.

You slide your fingers down your body, gently tracing one nipple and then the other before heading further south and into your pussy; the squelching, slippery sound is embarrassing, but it spurs you on even more. You’re disgustingly wet and it’s all his fault. Slickness coats your fingers and you hold them out for him to taste, moaning when he grunts around them, the vibrations priming you for what’s about to happen. “All for you, Sir.”

With a playful growl, he snakes his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him, burying his face in your pussy like his life depends on it. At first you laugh, his eagerness absolutely comical, but when his tongue flicks over your clit, you gasp and all sense of laughter is gone. There’s only melting into your bed as his free hand grasps yours, your fingers slipping perfectly in line with his, like a puzzle. All you can feel is the length of his fingers sliding into you to work alongside his magnificent tongue.

His tongue laps over your folds, devouring every inch of slickness that slips away while his fingers caress your insides. “Oh fuck,” you say on a gasp. He’s found that spot that turns you to jelly. “Fuck, Spence, make me come.”

Immediately, he stops and you whine.

“Excuse you?”

“Sir, please.”

“That’s better.”

His stilled fingers move again and he points his tongue, meticulously gliding it up and down your folds. You buck against his hand, wanting more, needing more, begging for more. As he feels you getting close, your walls fluttering around his artful fingers, he places his lips over your clit and switches between a gentle suction and the frenzied lapping of his tongue, the contrast of care and insatiability sending you right over the edge as the sparks fly. “Fuck,” you manage to say. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says, crawling his way up your body, heated kisses searing your skin. In a frenzy of open-mouthed kisses and heavy breaths, Spencer grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist, slipping easily inside you to the hilt, watching your mouth drop open at the fullness you feel. “I’ll never get enough of that look,” he mumbles into you. “On my deathbed, that’ll be one of the things that flashes before my eyes.”

Mouth open, you attempt to speak, but nothing comes out. No words form as he finds a gentle rhythm, his cock hitting against that sweet spot inside you over and over and over again. “Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Good girl. His good girl. Few things make you feel as wonderful and fulfilled as those three words.

Hips rock against you. You’re so close. Just a hint of something more and you’ll get there; you’ll fall. You know it. When you try to slip your hand between your legs and push yourself there, he refuses, pinning your wrists above your head as he bites down on your earlobe, the sharp moment of pain traveling to your core and pushing you off the cliff’s edge. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

As you’re coming down, still trembling, he cries into your skin and comes inside you, his hips rutting against you with the force of his release. “Mmm, fuck.” He bites his lip as the last of his orgasm subsides and he pulls himself from you, collapsing at your side. “You’re right. It is too many hours since I’ve seen you.”

When Spencer wipes the pad of his thumb underneath your eye, you’re taken aback at the tear that’s there. “We’ll have children,” Spencer assured you. “No matter how we have them, may it be naturally, IVF, adoption, anything. We’ll do it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, curling into his side. “Do you want me to make the dinner I planned? Or naked pizza date and movies?”

“That one,” he says with a smile. “A hundred percent that one. Then you can stay here and elevate those hips.”

You sigh happily as Spencer slips a pillow under your hips and calls for pizza. He paces the room when he talks, and he’s still naked, so you’re able to admire him - the scars he now boasts from years of working as an Agent, the lithe muscles he’s grown into after so many years as the baby of the BAU, the way his hair, now dewy with sweat, falls in random places around his eyes. He’s just so beautiful. And he’s yours.


	2. Chapter 2

Take out happens maybe once a week, sometimes twice. Otherwise, you and Spencer take turns cooking and occasionally cook together. Tonight is your night, so you toil away at the stove top, ensuring that the boiling water for the pasta doesn’t overflow and the chicken doesn’t get burnt. You flit about the kitchen with practiced precision, gathering everything you’ll need on the countertop. Sun-dried tomatoes, baby spinach, some cheese - ALL THE CHEESE. After all, Spencer loves dairy.

While you cook, Spencer is grading papers from class. He sits at his desk facing the window which looks out upon the street. It’s a beautiful night and the moon is full, but he’s got nearly 75 essays to grade, so his gaze stays fixed on the papers. Spencer rarely wears his glasses anymore, but on long stretches of precise reading, like grading essays or reading, he pulls them out. He pushes them up as he pinches the bridge of his nose; his head’s starting to hurt.

With no more chicken in the pan, you turn the pasta down to a slow boil and sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You slip your hands into the top of his t-shirt and skate them across his collarbone. “You should take a break. Dinner’s almost ready.”

His eyebrows are scrunched up in pain, so he relents and pulls off his glass, setting them down on the table in the sliver of moonlight that crosses it. “You make that tuscany chicken I love?”

“With pasta and cream sauce,” you reply, reaching for his glasses and slipping them on. “How do I look?”

Spencer swallows hard, his eyes flitting between the bedroom and the dinner table two or three times before his stomach growls. “Dinner first. And then…I think we need to play a little dress up.”

“Shall I be the teacher or the librarian, my love?” You giggle, a furious blush washing over you under his hungry gaze.

“Librarian.”

You’ve always wanted to be a sexy librarian.

—

Dinner is delicious. Duh, you made it and you’re a culinary master. Okay, maybe not. You tend to burn things, but you manage and the two of you talk about his classes and the students. He asks about your day. It’s all wonderfully non-eventful and allows you to take solace in each other. At least once a week you make it a point to just be with each other - no technology, no sex, just the two of you.

After you eat, Spencer washes the dishes, leaving them on the rack next to the sink to dry as his voice washes over you. “Love, I want you to sit there and imagine everything I’m going to do to you while I go pick an outfit for you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With a swift flick of the switch, his tone changes, changing you. Closing your eyes, you lean back into the couch and picture him ripping off your clothes and bending you over the table, or maybe his desk. Without words, he puts his knee between your legs to spread them, even teases you for how disgustingly wet you are. “Are all little girls such sluts?” He’d ask.

Just as you’re about to reach between your legs, you hear his voice and you start moving, almost as if under his spell. As you pass him in the hallway, he instructs you to get dressed and then come out by his desk. He’ll have books waiting to be sorted back in their rightful places.

On your bed sits a black button down shirt, the one you like that makes you feel all powerful, with a stiff collar. He’s paired it with a little red ascot, red belt, and a white pleated skirt, speckled with black and red polka dots. It’s all complete with red pumps, and a pair of non-prescription black-rimmed glasses. Despite your place in this dance - his sub - the outfit makes you feel proud and in control. He knows how important it is for you in moments like this, to have a semblance of control.

With a deep breath, you assume your role for the night and step outside, the sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the wood floors a heady soundtrack for your play. No words are spoken, necessary, as your fingers caress the spines of his beloved books. He has them alphabetized, so you know exactly where they go.

The entire time, you can feel his eyes on you. Since he didn’t leave you underwear, you’re not wearing any and you’re almost positive your slickness is dripping down your leg. Shakily, you continue to tidy the area, waiting for a cue from Spencer about where the scene is headed. Of course, whenever he looks your way, you fiddle with the glasses, either pushing them back onto the bridge of your nose or pulling them down to look at something.

When you see him continually staring at his watch, you understand what he wants. “Sir, I just wanted to let you know that the library will be closing in about five minutes.”

A shadow of a smile crosses his face as he returns the books he was using to their proper places. “Miss, where does this one go?”

He’s literally standing right in front of it. You know it and he knows it. But you stride over to him and take the book from his hand, your fingers ghosting over each other’s just slightly. It sends a shiver up your spine. You put yourself between him and the bookcase and your ass just brushes up against his hardening cock. “Right here, Sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The imposing shadow of your husband looms closer, his hand slipping over the skirt and blouse before wrapping itself tenderly around your neck. “There is one thing.”

“I’m here to serve, Sir.”

“Good answer.”

As his hand remains firm around your neck, he uses the other to unbutton your blouse, revealing the bra he’d chosen. Red, of course. It’s one of his favorite colors on you. He pulls the tucked-in shirt from your skirt and pushes the skirt down. “Step out.”

Your heels click on the floor as you step out of the skirt and kick it to the side. The hand that was around your throat now travels south, two fingers quickly swiping up your slit. “Very wet. Is that for me?”

Nodding, you moan into his fierce kiss. His rough hands and scraping teeth elicit the most delicious symphony from your mouth.

“Stand in front of the desk, hands on the table.”

It’s in front of the open window. “S-Sir?”

“Is there a problem?”

“The window is open, Sir. Someone could see.”

“Then let them see,” he says with a smile. “Let them see what’s mine.”

Fuuuuccckkkk.

“Of course, Sir.”

You are so disgustingly turned on by the fact that you can be caught. Behind you, Spencer shoves his knee between your legs, forcing them to either side. You hear the clack of his belt hit the floor and the swift swipes of his hand over his cock before he places it at your entrance. “Whose are you?”

“Yo-” Before you could utter the last syllable, he sheaths himself inside you, making you gasp. “Yours, Sir. I’m yours.”

“That’s right.”

Spencer’s desk shakes beneath you as he fucks into your sodden pussy, the sounds of wet skin slapping against skin covering you with the darkest of blushes. You imagine his ass clenching as he thrusts into you, lithe muscles straining as he attempts to keep control.

Bathed in the light of the moon, you watch as Spencer pulls the cups of your bra underneath your breasts and rips the blouse down around your wrists. “You’re even wetter than before,” he remarks, his hand snaking around your throat again. “Do you like being used like this? For my pleasure? Someone else’s viewing?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your slut, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He growls into your ear and then nips at your carotid where the blood pulses pure and strong.

You start to shake, your orgasm incoming and furious like a wave. Spencer was barely keeping control before, but as you arch your bared breasts toward the window, inviting any onlookers, he grunts, wrapping his hand around your throat, just tight enough, while he fucks into you without mercy.

Each mewl and cry sends him spiraling harder, faster, until he’s pinning you to the desk and coming inside you with a growl. He pulls himself from you and you buck back, needing it, needing him. Dropping to his knees behind you, he swipes his fingers across your clit with intensity and laughs when you come, legs shaking so much you can barely stand.

“Fuck, Sir.” Sitting up, you push the glasses back up the bridge of your nose. “Do the glasses get you that much?”

“Absolutely.”

Spencer points toward the bedroom, his eyes somehow hungrier. “Now get your ass to bed.”


	3. Chapter 3

Now that you are well and truly trying to get pregnant, Spencer has you on prenatal vitamins. For two months, he’s been cooking, only the healthiest of course; he gives you massages to keep you relaxed constantly. You might get used to this.

“We’re right in the window, right?” He asks.

“Yup, I’m ovulating, so I’m gonna need you to fuck me senseless for a couple days.”

“Can do,” he laughs, swaying you both back and forth. “I’ve been reading up-”

“That’s so like you.”

“Shush,” he says, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. “Anyway, I’ve been reading up and being in a relaxed state is better for baby making, so what better way to relax than a massage. Full body.” There’s a glint in his eye that reminds you of a teenage boy, so full of glee at the image of a naked lady.

Smiling into his mouth, you reply, “You just want any excuse to touch a naked lady.”

“True, but I also want to worship your body the way it deserves to be.” His breath is heavy against the shell of your ear as he dances you around the living room.

“My sweet talker.”

Spinning you around, he pulls you back into his embrace and tells you to head to the bedroom, strip and lie face down. Normally, he waits, ups the anticipation, but not today. Now he follows just seconds after your cheeks touch the comforter. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth,” he instructs. “And prop that ass up a little bit for me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Following his orders feels like where you’re meant to be.

You shiver against the cool air hitting your skin and do as he says, breathing in through your nose and then out through your mouth while he rummages around the room. Following his footsteps from the closet to the drawers, you grasp at the sheets, listening for the sound of lotion being poured into his hands. Even though he hasn’t touched you yet, the room is already full with the heady scent of submission and sex.

He rubs them together, starting at your shoulders. His hands are a little slippery - not porn set soaked because the clean up is a bitch and you just aren’t about that life - but smooth as silk as they glide over the curves of your shoulders. A moan slips from your lips and you hear him chuckle.

“Feel good?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Slowly but surely, he works his way down, rubbing circles over and between your shoulder blades, his thumbs working further down into your lower back. You’re melting into the blankets below you. After applying more lotion to his hands, he returns, grabbing your ass with both hands. At first, his touch makes you giggle (you can almost picture him wanting to use your ass like a drum). You’re almost ticklish, but when a thumb grazes the tight ring of muscle you groan into the comforter.

Spencer breathes in through clenched teeth. “Oh, is that something you’re interested in?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“You’re a dirty girl.”

His dirty girl.

Whimpering, you buck into his hand as he drags it up and down your folds, but then he moves away, working into your thighs and lower legs. He’s such a tease. That might be his favorite thing in the world. Tension coils up inside you when he tells you to turn over. You can see his lust blown eyes, his cock straining against his pants. There’s something about him being clothed and you being completely bare that makes the situation even more heady. You’ll never get enough of being naked and at his disposal while he sits there clad in his cotton suit of armor.

More lotion is applied to his hands, which return with even more vigor. He knows what he wants to do now; the picture he wants to create. He roughly palms your breasts, pinching both nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. Without thinking, you reach for his cock. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel, but he swats your hand away and reminds you of your place.

Fire flies from his fingertips, deliciously singeing your cool silken skin as he caresses your body. “Sir, please,” you whimper. “I need you. I want you.”

“Almost, love.”

When his fingers finally skirt around your pussy, you whine. You need his touch so badly. You want him to fuck you, take you, claim you, anything. All you need is the weight of him on you and you’ll be fulfilled.

Slowly, he runs his hands up your thighs, fingers massaging the creases where your thighs meet your pussy. You hear him laugh and wonder why until you tune into yourself whimpering. “You so badly want to be touched, don’t you, baby girl?”

“Yes, Sir. I need your cock. Need you.”

As he rips off his shirt, he crawls back up your body and nips at your skin. Tomorrow you’ll see little red marks and remember - always remember. He doesn’t even bother to fully remove his pants before he buries himself inside you. The waistband of his pants sit firmly below his ass, which clenches under your grasp as he fucks into you.

Awash with pleasure, you’re almost completely still, mouth agape. “Please, please, please, please…” It’s like a prayer. “Come inside me, please.”

Spencer grunts, pulling out carefully and torturously slowly before thrusting back inside to the hilt, burying himself so far inside you his balls hit your ass. He repeats the motion over and over again, groaning every time you clench around him. “There’s a special place in heaven for women that clench around your cock during sex, you know that?” He laughs, heavy breaths falling against your neck.

“Do they let demons into heaven?” You ask coyly.

Both of you fall into a soft fit of laughter as you fall over the edge, his come filling your insides. “God, I love you.” You’re all smiles as you curl into him.

Wrapping his arm around you, he kisses your forehead. “You wanna watch a movie or something? Just cuddle?”

“Read to me while you cuddle me?” You ask.

“Your wish is my command.”


	4. Chapter 4

One of each - one positive test and one negative test.

Heart fluttering, you sit on the edge of the sink. Which one is right?

When Spencer comes home, you show him the tests and he promises you’ll go to the doctor to get a straight-forward answer either way. He tries to tell you not to get your hopes up, that there is still plenty of time, which there is, but it doesn’t matter. That positive test is the shred you’re holding on to.

Days later, you walk hand-in-hand with your husband into the doctor’s office. Dr. Obel takes a couple tests and allows you to wait in her office while she finds out the results. Something about the lack of emotion on her face tells you everything. “Well, as of right now, you aren’t pregnant,” she says, immediately reaching her hand out for yours when she sees the build up of tears in your eyes. “You are so young. Just keep trying.”

Spencer squeezes your hand when she leaves, giving you a moment for you to break - if only for a moment. “I want to be a mom,” you sob. “I just want to make you a dad.”

“One day you will,” his whispers, the hint of shake in his voice telling you he was also hoping for different results. “No matter what. We’ll be parents.”

He rubs your back, ushering you toward the door where you meet the doctor again. “Stay strong, okay. You’ve got time.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

—

Heaviness sits between you on the way home. Somehow it brings you closer though, his hand finding yours, holding tightly as he drives in silence.

Once back upstairs in the confines of your apartment, Spencer kisses your temple and places an order for Chinese food. Sesame chicken for both of you of course. He always claims he wants to try other things but he never does and neither do you. “How about after we eat, we take a bath together? Nice and warm and snuggly.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply. You’re almost in a daze, a haze of disappointment mixed with Spencer’s comforting care lulling you into a vulnerable place. Vulnerability sucks. But you allow it in his presence.

With food in your stomachs, Spencer draws a bath, filling the water with rose-scented epsom salts - you’re favorite. You’re too numb slash calm to move, so Spencer lifts you from the couch and sits you on the bathroom counter so he can strip. “Come here, love.”

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes as he pulls you into the bath, water sluicing over your frazzled muscles. “I love you, Spence.”

“I love you too. So much.” He kisses the dampened hair at your temple, his hands sliding down the lengths of your arms to your hands while he lifts his legs up on either side of yours, keeping you cozy and comfortable, safe in his arms. “Just relax.”

You melt back into him, craning your head toward the crook of his neck. He guides your hands up to your breasts and massages them, leaving your hands to continue the work as he slides his own lower.

Like a ghost, he floats his hand through the water to cup your pussy, middle finger reaching for that sensitive bud. As he flicks his finger back and forth, you whimper, trembling for a harder touch. You can’t take the teasing tonight, and he knows it, quickly sliding two fingers into your slick pussy, his palm putting constant pressure on your aching clit until you’re shaking so hard the water ripples in your wake. “Just relax, my love. I’ve got you.”

—

Another two months pass with very eventful sex and less eventful pregnancy tests. Even though you have plenty of time and your age is on your side, you lose hope with each passing day, and then you feel guilty because so many women have been trying harder and longer and still don’t have the children they want.

“Spence, I think we should go to a fertility doctor,” you blurt out at dinner one night.

Looking up, he replies nonchalantly. “That sounds like a good idea.”

The word vomit is strong. “I just figure we should know if something physical is impeding this from happening for us or if we’re okay and it just hasn’t happened. I just need to know because then I can make my peace with not having kids naturally and we can search for other options, you know? Please don’t-” A sob gurgles up from the depths of your toes. “Please don’t be disappointed if-”

Nonchalance dissipates into fierce concern. “Disappointed?”

“If we can’t have kids naturally, I-I-”

Standing up from his chair, he wraps you in his embrace and kisses the top of your head over and over again. “Never. Do you hear me?” He drops to a crouch beside you, his gaze penetrating you to your very soul. “Children are children no matter where they come from, and you’ll be an amazing mother regardless.”

You know that - deep down. Even if you have a child naturally, you had always wanted to adopt as well, and Spencer isn’t some macho man asshole that has to have biological children to feel like they’re his, but the worry is still there. “You’re gonna be the best dad,” you reply softly, clutching on to his arm. You know he will and that this will happen for you, but you need answers.

—

Just a week later you walk into the fertility doctor’s office. After an invasive exam for you and what Spencer called “the most clinical, unsexy masturbation session I’ve ever had the privilege of taking part in,” you sit in front of the doctor’s desk and wait, heart fluttering uncontrollably while you await the answers to your questions.


	5. Chapter 5

As the doctor takes a seat, Spencer gives your hand a reassuring squeeze along with a soft smile. Whatever news you get, you’ll get through it together.

“Well, I’ve got some good news for you,” he says, taking a seat and setting the folder with your results to the side. “There is nothing in your test results that indicates that you shouldn’t be able to have kids naturally. Spencer, your sperm count and motility is perfectly fine and Y/N your egg production is normal for a woman your age. Almost six months is a little unusual, given that your results are positive, but it’s not unheard of. During your ovulation, try and have sex at least every other day, rest, make sure you’re eating healthy.”

With the doctor’s assurance, both you and Spencer shake his hand and thank him for his time. He leaves the office before you so you have a moment alone before you go home. “We’re good to go,” he sighs happily.

For the first time in a few months, your sobs are those of joy instead of sadness.

—

Happiness and heat wash over you as you step into the apartment. The dream is still within reach. Spencer pushes you into the wall, rough hands traveling quickly above heated skin, his deft fingertips leaving blooming fire in their wake.

As you clumsily kiss your way toward the bedroom, clothes fly in different directions. He’s hungry, like an animal, but there’s a stark contrast between the look in his eyes and the touch of his hands, ghosting your skin, unable to focus on part of you for more than a second at a time. “I fucking love you so much,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

“I love you, too, Spence. Need you. Fuck me. Fuck me full.” You’ve been needy before, but the voice you hear sounds nothing like your own in this moment.

Spencer grunts as he rips the last of your clothing off, stepping on your jeans to get you out of them. He bites down on your lower lip before you return the favor. You’re hungry too.

“Can’t wait to see what you look like pregnant. You’re gonna be so beautiful.” Despite his hunger, his genuineness shines through.

“I’m gonna be fat,” you laugh, the sound of heavy breaths filling your mind with a heady feeling that has you floating.

Spencer grasps your face in his hands and tongues at your mouth. “Beautiful. Shush.” Pushing you down onto the bed, he quickly drops to his knees and yanks you by your thighs to the edge of the bed before burying his face in your pussy. He flicks his tongue against your clit, and slides his fingers up through the wetness that gathers there. He’s a mix of ferocious and gentle, nips and kisses, the switch between light and dark so quick it makes your head spin.

When he stalks up your body, you see arousal on his chin, his cock hanging thick and heavy between his legs. “I’m gonna fuck you full of cum,” he breathes, open mouthed kisses finding their way up the column of your throat. “I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you want it.”

Who says consent isn’t sexy?

“I want it,” you whine, your hips bucking up into that hand that hovers just above your needy pussy. “I need it.”

With one sharp thrust, he’s buried himself inside you, his throbbing cock hitting your g-spot in a way that will always feel like the first time. Over and over again, you clench around him, wanting to rip his orgasm from him like he always does to you. You wriggle under him, movements frenzied and unfocused. You’re in search of one thing and thing only.

“Want you to scream my name, baby.” Spencer pistons his hips into your soaking pussy, growling with each slide.

Neither of you are going to last long like this.

When he grabs your hands and holds them above your head, he somehow feels tighter inside you. “Fuck me. Spence.”

A litany of profanities and protestations fall from your lips, each word punctuated with a thrust that’s the perfect whirlwind of pleasure and pain. “Fuck. Me. Spence, I-” You cry, fingers digging into the straining muscles between his shoulder blades.

If there’s any doubt that you’ll leave crescent-shaped marks on his pristine skin, it flies away with a growl. His fluid movements devolve into animalistic rutting until he finally comes, burying himself inside you as you whimper at the fullness and the heat. “Fuck, Spence,” you breathe, continuing with a laugh. “If that didn’t do the trick then I don’t know what will.”

For a moment, he pulls himself from you. You hate the empty feeling he leaves behind, but when he drops to lie behind you, he lifts your leg up slightly and swipes his cock between your folds before pushing back in. “I’m gonna stay right here just coming into you over and over again until it happens,” he says, smiling against the back of your neck. “This is right where I belong.”

“If only we didn’t have to do out into the world, I would lay here and keep your cock warm day in and day out for the rest of time.”

After a quick dinner, you both return to bed, sans clothing of course, and cuddle up to watch a movie as you sleep. “I have a question for you,” Spencer says. When you nod, he continues, “We haven’t really re-discussed or re-negotiated our wants and needs in a while.”

Every four or five months the topic would come up. In any relationship it’s likely that both parties will grow and change, maybe even ending up completely different from when they started seeing each other. “True,” you say, tracing his nipple with the tip of your finger. “Well, I kind of want to try out a different title on you. Feel it out.” He looks at you expectantly. He loves to hear you use your words. “Daddy.”

His cock twitches. “I won’t lie, I hate that the title turns me on, but it does. At least a little bit, so we can try that out. Anything else?”

Since the start of your relationship you’d known that Spencer wasn’t big on sharing, so this was a tough subject to broach, but honesty was best, especially in this kind of a dynamic.

“What is it?”

Starting out shakily, you find confidence as you speak. “Okay, well I know that you aren’t big into sharing. And I don’t want to be shared…with a guy. But I haven’t eaten a girl out ever and I kind of want to, sooooo-”

For a man in his upper 30s, his cock is rock hard in seconds. You palm over his length as he speaks. “I would be lying if I didn’t say that I’ve imagined you with another woman. Would you want me with her or not?”

“That depends on you,” you reply. “I wouldn’t mind it. No kissing her though. That’s only for me.” You peck him on the lips for emphasis. “But I wouldn’t mind you being with her if you were comfortable with it. Or you could just plow me into her pussy and watch us.”

Spencer weighs the options in his mind before he responds. “I won’t say it’s a definite yes, but I will absolutely think about it.”

“Is there anything you really wanna try?” Something tells you you know the answer, but you wait for him to speak.

When his firm hand cups your ass, his smile evident against your skin, you have your answer, even before he opens his mouth. “It’s another thing I definitely don’t like admitting out loud. But I do like anal.”

You chuckle against his neck and look up under hooded eyelids. “I’m into trying. Maybe do a little training. You could make me wear a plug out or something like that. Would you like that?”

“Sans panties of course.”

“Of course.” Yawning, you curl into him more. Even though his thin, lithe muscles provide your only padding, he’s so comfortable. “There are other things I might be interested in at some point, but we can re-evaluate again another time. Right?”

“Absolutely,” he replies. “Now, as much as I’d like to fuck your brains out until the sun comes up, we do both have to get up for work in the morning.”

Wiggling under the covers, Spencer pulls you toward him, his cock resting at your lower back as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, lulling you to sleep. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spence.”

No matter what you’ve gone or would go through, as long as you had Spencer, you would be safe.


	6. Chapter 6

There are times that a scene or playtime is fully discussed beforehand. Other times, Spencer just slips into that comfortable dominant skin and expects you to follow his lead.

Today is the latter.

A good indication that he’s already in that headspace is if he leaves a note by your bedside, which he has. Given that he no longer works for the BAU, he has weekends off, and you’ve developed a wonderfully predictable routine.

As you dart your hand out from under the covers, quickly pulling it back to the warmth of morning comfort, you smell chocolate in the air.

Morning, love.

Don’t move a muscle. Today I’m taking care of you. Text me when you wake up and I’ll bring you coffee. I’m making pancakes too. After a shower, I think it’s about time we make some noise for the neighbors. My goal in life is to make you scream so loud we get a call from the landlord.

Your Spencer

An ugly giggle-snort (that’s really the only way to describe it) escapes you. It’ll be embarrassing as all hell to get a noise complaint, but you love pleasing Spencer more than you hate embarrassment. And let’s be real, when it comes to embarrassment and sex with Spencer, you love it. Picking up your phone, you shoot him a quick message and wait patiently for your usual morning pick-me-up.

Minutes later, you sit up just as he walks in with a cup in hand. He’s not wearing a shirt and his flannel pants sit snugly on his hips. “Morning, sweetheart.” With a soft click, the mug is placed at your side and he kisses your forehead. “How many pancakes?”

“You making the big ones or the small ones?”

“Big.”

“Two, please.”

Smiling, he tells you he’ll be right back. Now that you’re sitting up, you see the shirt he wore to bed last night laid out at the end of the bed. It isn’t thrown there. It was placed there. He wants you to wear it.

After slipping it on, you sip at your coffee, its delicious heat sliding down your throat. A contented sigh leaves you. It’s the elixir of the gods and no one can convince you otherwise.

When Spencer returns, he has your plate of pancakes in one hand and his mug in the other, with his own plate balanced precariously on top. Considering his penchant for clumsiness, you can practically see his own pancakes falling on the floor, but they don’t thankfully.

You dig into your pancakes fervidly to the point where you don’t even realize that Spencer hasn’t started his yet. “What?” You ask, mouth full.

“There are few things I love more than you in my t-shirt,” he replies, wiping remnants of chocolate from your chin.

You shove another piece of pancake into your mouth and smile wide. “What about this? Just ALL the pancakes in my mouth.”

“I especially love that.”

A man that makes you feel beautiful even when you’re eating like a pig? A national treasure.

Spencer spends the morning pampering you, massaging tension from your shoulders like he was trained for it before guiding you into the shower. No sex there. You rarely have sex in the shower because that shit is hard. Spencer called your last shower session “a battle of endurance,” to which you’d agreed.

Once back in your bedroom, Spencer brushes your hair. It’s literally the most relaxing thing in the world. Tuning in to the gentle scrape of the brush’s bristles against your scalp, his fingers in your hair, his breath against the nape of your neck; it’s intoxicating.

Like adults, you begin your weekend chores, washing dishes, doing laundry and so on after a relaxing morning. This weekend you take the dishes and he does the laundry because laundry means walking outside the apartment down to the communal washers and dryers and Spencer wants you walking around sans panties. Although you hope that one of these days he says he wants you to do the laundry exactly as you are. Getting caught pantiless in front of your co-tenants would be deliciously embarrassing.

When Spencer returns from downstairs with folded laundry in hand, his eyes rake over your body. Soft hazel pulls you toward though his mouth remains closed. “You know you’re even more beautiful like this? Just lounging around?”

You’re swaying in his embrace. “Not dressed up? You like this more?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

The gentle rumble of his voice travels up your spine as he deftly spins you around and backs you into the apartment door. “You know a lot of people are home right now,” he says silkily. “Going up and down stairs to do their laundry.”

“Is that so?”

A chuckle escapes you when Spencer drops to his knees, his head delving underneath the t-shirt to kiss your stomach, lips ghosting over your pussy as his hands slide up from your ankles to the creases where your thighs meet your sex. When a low growl slips off your tongue, Spencer kisses your clit and tugs your hips downward, prompting you to bend at the knees. This way you’re more open for him, reliant on him to keep you on steady ground while his mouth works its magic.

As he nudges his mouth up into you, tongue dipping into your pussy, you grasp a tuft of his soft brown hair and grind onto his face. You look down and watch as his nose and lips and chin brush against you, quickly bringing you to a shaky conclusion. “Goddamn, Spence. Fuck me up against the door.”

Arousal covers the lower half of his face. You taste yourself on him, licking at his skin as he stands to meet your gaze. Sliding one hand into his hair, the others slips over his shoulder, anchoring you in place as he pushes his pants down and slides home. Legs spread, you roll your body into him as he meets you thrust for thrust. Every movement has you banging against the door and you can hear people on the stairs, just outside. They know.

You want them to. “Spence, give it to me.”

The volume of your voice takes him off guard. Normally you’re shy when there’s a possibility of getting caught, but you’re too far gone to care right now. You bite down on your bottom lip in that way you know he likes when he fucks you into the door. “Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “Gonna come.”

“That’s it. Come for me, Spence.”

When his muscles tense, you cry out, a small whimper choking itself from you right as someone is walking up the stairs.

Oops.

—

Later that night, after Spencer falls asleep, you have this overwhelming feeling, so you slip out from under the covers and head to the bathroom to pee on another dumb stick. It’s probably going to say negative again, and you’ll be left disappointed - again - but you can’t stop yourself. Instead, waiting patiently on the edge of the tub as five excruciating minutes pass.

Unlike before, you don’t reach for it tentatively, afraid of what it will say. You take it nonchalantly, that ever-elusive sleep finally pulling at the corners of your eyes.

Pregnant.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you return your gaze to the stick. “Oh fuck,” you laugh, instinctively going for your stomach. Your heart races as you run toward the bedroom, the slamming of the door against the wall pulling Spencer from sleep.

“You okay?” He mumbles.

“I’m pregnant!”

A smile spreads across his face when you hand him the stick. “Is this happening? It’s really happening?”

“I think so,” you reply shakily. “I think I’m gonna take another one just to make sure.”

This time Spencer follows you and waits with you for the second test. “You look at it,” you urge him.

“Pregnant!”

You have the overwhelming urge to scream, but it’s the middle of the night and the only time you want a noise complaint is for sex, ironically. “You’re gonna be a daddy,” you laugh, a tear falling down your cheek. “We’re having a baby!”


	7. Chapter 7

After going to Dr. Obel’s office to triple check, you settle into impending parenthood. Neither of you can stop smiling. It’s gross. The entire BAU is ecstatic that they’re going to be aunts and uncles. Diana couldn’t stop crying when you told her and your parents screeched like rabid monkeys. It was fucking wonderful.

Now you’re both wondering which room to turn into a nursery. He walks in after class to see you standing in the door of the second bedroom. Normally, it’s where Diana stays if she stays with you, but you decided on it being the baby’s nursery. You’ll get the baby a crib that’s easily movable so if Diana does come to visit, you can bring the baby in your room for the night. “Hey, love,” he says, placing his hand on your stomach. There’s barely a bump there yet, but he can’t help but be protective; it rolls off him. “What’re you up to?”

“Thinking colors.”

“Don’t you wanna wait to figure out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“No way,” you reply as you peck him on the chin. “I was never thinking pink or blue anyway, but I do have one idea!”

“Yeah?”

“Winnie the Pooh. Please? Maybe like a light yellow on one wall, the others can stay white. We’ll put the crib against the yellow wall. We can have Winnie the Pooh wall hangings on one or two walls. The changing table and diaper genie can go right here.” You’re traveling around the room planning where every single thing can go. “What do you think?”

“I think I love it. Maybe a decal for the wall and we can put the name above the crib once we decide?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around him. “I still doesn’t feel real.”

Spencer replies, his face buried in the soft tufts of your hair. “I know. But it is.”

“You’re gonna be a daddy.” His cock twitches against the confines of his pants. “Oh, you like that?”

“Mmmhmm. As a matter of fact, go put on that pink babydoll I got you last year. Daddy’s got plans.”

—

Bounding inside, you quickly slip on the pink, polka-dot, translucent babydoll with matching panties before running back outside to see Spencer sitting on the couch in nothing but his boxers. “How do I look, Daddy?”

“Beautiful.”

There’s something about the title you like. Like him, you didn’t want to like it, but you did. He beckons you close with a crook of his finger, patting on his knee indicating he wants you to take a seat. When you go to just sit in his lap, he places a hand on either side of his knee. He wants you to straddle him.

Your sex sits against his knee and you whimper.

“You like that-” He hesitates. “Red.”

It takes you by surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m all for people using that title if it’s what works for them, but I feel like I’m infantilizing you and it’s ruining the mood. Can we go back to Sir?”

“Of course, Sir,” you reply, nipping at the underside of his chin. You don’t mind Daddy, like it even, but Sir fits him so much more. “Thank you for safewording. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable either.” He’d actually never used the safeword before. He’d stopped play himself, towards the beginning of your relationship, because you still hadn’t learned your boundaries and he’d known they’d been crossed, but he’d never used the word himself. “Do you want to do something else? Or is this still good, just usual title?”

“Still good,” he says, his gaze traveling to where you’re straddling him. Out of your line of sight, he pulls out a ball gag and smiles, fixing it around your head and ensuring it’s not too tight but not too loose. Goldilocks territory. “Now, love. I think you should use my knee to make yourself come. If you can do that, with just my knee, twice, I’ll let you sit here and keep my cock warm while we watch TV. Oh, and as always-?”

“Athk permithon,” you mumble around the gag.

“Good girl.”

As you start to grind against his knee, he turns on the TV, and fuck if his seeming indifference doesn’t turn you on like nobody’s business. You bury your head in the crook of his neck and groan as your body pivots forward; in this position, you’re able to put better pressure on your clit. Pleasure builds, slowly at first, but then it takes on a life of its own and you push yourself back so you can ask him. It’s barely understandable.

He teases. “Use your words, love?”

“Can I come?” You enunciate as best you can.

“Yes, you can.”

One minute you’re standing at the cliff’s edge and the next you’re falling into the water, your entire body shaking with the force of your release. His eyes glaze over with lust as he watches your body tremble.

When you go to bury your head in his neck again, he yanks you back by your hair. “No, no, no, love. This time, you get to look at me the entire time.”

Your insides are on fire. The first time was practiced, but now you’re moving and grinding and humping and swirling yourself against his leg in search of a quick orgasm. Even if he doesn’t fuck you senseless afterward, you need him inside you; you need to feel full.

As the intensity builds, you almost begin to cry, but you’re entranced when he brings your head closer to his and licks at the gag in your mouth. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll just have you sit here, bound and gagged, while I go about my business. How does that sound?”

You can only nod as you grind, unable to form any words. No matter your frenzied movements, nothing seems to get you there a second time until you use your own slickness to glide from side to side over his knee. It builds in a matter of seconds. “Can I come, Sir?”

Again, he can barely understand, but he takes pity and nods, laughing deviously as the trembling overcomes you.

While you come down from the heady humiliation, he removes the gag from your mouth and calls you his good girl. Always his good girl. “What do good girls get as a reward?” He asks.

“Cock, Sir.”

“That’s right.”

Turning around, you sit in his lap and sigh when he slips himself inside you, your eyes closing contentedly in the afterglow. “So,” he starts, “what did you think about the title?”

“I liked it, but I don’t love it. Sir feels so much more natural. If you don’t love it, I don’t want it to be a boner killer.”

Spencer chuckles at your back, teeth grazing the skin between your shoulder blades. “Well, it wasn’t completely that, but enough that I’m just more comfortable with Sir. I think it’s something I like in theory, but not practice.”

“That’s okay, Sir. I want you to be comfortable too.”


	8. Chapter 8

At 18 weeks along, today’s the day. Today, you and Spencer get to find out whether you’re having a boy or a girl. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, as long as the baby is healthy, but you have butterflies in your stomach just thinking about it; it’s almost like finding out the gender makes it really real.

Although that butterfly feeling could just be the baby kicking; you’re not quite sure. Inside Dr. Obel’s office, you feel welcome. Ever since you started going to an OB/GYN it had been important for you to feel like a patient in the office, not just another number. With Dr. Obel, you feel cared for.

Sitting down on the table, you squeeze Spencer’s hand, nervous excitement flowing through as you wait for the doctor.

“How are you feeling today?” She asks.

“Not too bad,” you both say at the same time, laughing when Spencer continues. “You meant her, of course. Don’t mind me.”

Besides increased sex drive, which you didn’t think was possible given the nature of your relationship, you feel pretty good. A little morning sickness here and there, but not a whole hell of a lot and you can’t eat anything spicy right now. “Otherwise, I’m okay.”

She squeezes the gross jelly onto your stomach and uses the sonogram wand to spread it around. The cool gel makes you shiver, but Spencer is right behind you rubbing your shoulders and keeping you warm.

When the heartbeat comes through, your eyes well up again. That sound will never get old. “Everything’s looking healthy,” she says confidently. “At this point, there’ll be finger and toe prints. The nervous system is forming. And if you’d like, you can start talking to them and they’ll be able to hear. Are you interested in knowing the sex of the baby?”

Your heart jumps in your chest and you turn to Spencer to quadruple check that both want to know. He nods.

“It’s a…” The pause feels like an eternity. “Girl!”

A sob emanates from deep within you. It came from nowhere. “It’s a girl! Spence, we’re having a baby girl.” Resting your hand on your stomach, you laugh cry as Spencer comes to your side and kisses your bump.

“Hey, baby girl,” he breathes, his voice shaky with nerves and unbridled anticipation. “I love you so much already.”

Dr. Obel leaves you with wipes to clean off your stomach and the promise that she’ll keep in touch until your next appointment. “Holy shit,” Spencer chuckles. “It’s a girl.” He grasps the sides of his face in both hands, like he’s surprised. “We need to think of a name.”

—

Spencer is traditional. You’re traditional and a little bit hippie, so after much deliberation you decide on the name, Charlotte Magnolia Reid. You’ll undoubtedly call her Charlie or Maggie as a nickname which makes the whole naming process essentially null and void, but when she grows up she’ll have all the nicknames to choose from.

After settling on the name, Spencer goes out to grab the kind of letters you hang on the wall, so her name sits proudly above the crib that’s gifted by Penelope and Luke as their baby shower gift even though your shower still isn’t for another few months. The second Penelope found out you were pregnant she started shopping for the “future genius baby.” It’s white, convertible, and there are little woodland scenes carved into the backboard of it. It had to cost them an arm and a leg, but you sobbed into Penelope’s arms and thanked them both for the amazing gift.

There’s still a long way to go in decorating, but Spencer has a surprise, holding up an oblong box just as you wake up from a nap. “I have something for you. Well, us. Well, Charlotte. But also us.”

Snickering, you plop onto the couch next to him and wipe the sleep from your eyes with balled up-fists. When your hands drop to your sides, you start to weep. Pregnancy emotions are fucking wild. “It’s a map of the 100-acre wood on a rug!” You cry, even though Spencer can literally see it right in front of him because he bought it. “For in front of the crib?”

“Mmmhmmm. You like?”

“I love!”

“Good.” He gives you a peck on the lips as he goes to place it by the crib, and you follow him, bounding up and down on your heels and clapping like a child. It looks perfect. “I love it even more up close.” The smile on his face warms you from the inside out and simultaneously makes you horny as hell. He looks so good and you want him.

A rollercoaster of emotions. “Spence?”

“Mmm?” He waits expectantly, clearly not expecting what comes out of your mouth.

“I’m horny as all hell.”

His laugh is loud as he returns to your side, his hands cradling the sides of your face to take your lips in the most chaste of kisses. But even the most chaste ones get you riled up now. “Maybe after dinner,” he says teasingly. You know full well he’ll fuck you senseless, but he wants to hear you beg. He loves it when you beg.

“Please?” You ask. “Right now? I’m so horny. This baby is killing me.”

“I don’t know if you want it bad enough.” He walks around the apartment, cleaning dishes, folding laundry, literally doing anything to avoid your gaze so he can keep the game going for as long as possible. “Sir likes to hear you use your words. What exactly do you want? How badly do you want it?”

Clenching your legs together, you rub them back and forth for a modicum of relief, but it’s not enough. “I want your cock, Sir. Please? I need it so badly.”

“You can do better than that.”

The desire to stomp your feet like a petulant child is strong. You run toward Spencer and wrap your arms around his waist before turning him to face you. Biting down on his lower lip, you run your hands up his shirt against taut muscle. When he goes to speak, you kiss him over and over again, speaking on heady breaths in between every few words. “Need your cock. Inside this pussy. Right now. If you don’t, your wife might die.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he laughs. Spinning you around, he lets his hands roam over your bump as he walks you toward the bedroom, spreading kisses up and down the sides of your neck along the way. “God, I love the way you look pregnant.”

“Really?” You melt as he smiles into your hair. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said, surprise flooding his voice. “I could probably think about it, when my head is clouded with thoughts of you naked on the bed, but there’s just something about it that gets me going.”

You chuckle into his mouth, pulling him backwards with you and onto the bed. Your entire body is on fire. He’s barely done anything, but apparently hormones have just put your body into overdrive. Hooking his hands into the top of your sweats, he pulls them off in one fell swoop and dips to kiss you, going between licking at your overheated skin and kissing your stomach. It’s a combination that has you hot and shivering at the same time.

After all this time together, Spencer knows your body better than you do; he’s positive he knows what you need and when, and right now is not the time for foreplay. He yanks his own pants down and lets them fall to the floor, not even bothering to step out of them.

Swiping his cock against you makes you whimper, another litany spilling from your mouth. “Please, Sir. Need to feel you inside me. Please,” you breathe, spreading yourself open with two fingers.

You know he’s watching you as he slips inside, pushing in torturously slowly so he can witness each and every inch disappear. “God, you take my cock so well, baby.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you almost croon, bucking into him. “Please fuck me hard.”

“You sure?”

The moment you nod, he quickly thrusts into you, holding himself to the hilt inside you as you cry out. He allows you to relax into the mattress as he takes control, tilting your body to the side, just slightly, so his cock is hitting your g-spot at a different angle. As you arch upward, ghosting your hands lightly over your own body, he holds you by your leg, allowing it to rest against his chest.

With each thrust, his balls hit your ass and you lose yourself in the rhythmic sound of it all. You feel used. Like he’s purely chasing his own end even though you know that’s not the truth. It’s delicious - a spectacular symphony of grunting and slapping and heavy breathing. “Gonna come around my cock?” He asks.

“Yes, Sir.”

Leaning forward, he pushes your leg closer to your body, using the hand that’s not propping him up to thumb at your clit and bring you over the edge.

“Scream for me, baby.”

“Fuck!” You bellow, pinching your nipples as each and every muscle tightens under his practiced hand. “Fucking hell.”

While you tremble, he scrapes his fingernails up your leg. “Better?”

“God, yes. Though at the rate I’m going I might need you to fuck me again later.”

Spencer chuckles and pulls you up and into a kiss. “I’m here to serve you, my love.”


	9. Chapter 9

Sex gets tricky when you’re nearly seven months pregnant, but that just means Spencer gets to be creative, and you absolutely love when he puts that big brain to good use.

As your stomach grows, Spencer’s creativity snowballs. Instead of outright sex, he’s showing his dominance in other ways, and it’s pulling at the same need deep inside you.

First, he needs to grade some tests, but as soon as he’s finished he has plans for you. Of course, he won’t tell you what they are because he likes to watch the gears in your head turn; he wants you to marinate in dirty thoughts until he’s ready.

The whirlwind of ideas that swirl in your head never quite match up to reality. Spencer’s comfortable dominance takes every idea to the next level in ways that are beyond your imagination.

“All done,” he says, the warmth of his voice spreading over you. “Wanna watch a movie? Browse Netflix?”

“Browse Netflix,” you reply, holding out the last syllable.

Standing up from his desk, Spencer plops on the couch and instructs you to strip to your bra and panties. They’re no longer lace because your ass and boobs have gotten too big, so until Charlotte arrives, you’re living in cotton everything.

You chance a glance out the apartment window, hoping no one is there to see, but in the end, not really caring either way. Peeled off clothes lie on the floor and a chill runs up your spine. Something says you don’t have to worry about the cold for long.

Taking a seat next to him, your eyes go wide at the sight of the rope. Without a word, he ties it around your wrists before placing a ball gag into your mouth. “We’ll sit here and watch TV. And you’ll be here at my disposal. How does that sound?”

There’s the warmth. Heat prickles at your skin. Objectification was never something that got you off before you’d met Spencer, but now that you’re in a loving and committed relationship, something’s changed.

You try to mumble ‘good’ around the gag, but you nod your head for emphasis. Although you can’t see your own eyes, you’re sure they’re telling Spencer, ‘absolutely a million times yes’ at the moment.

After settling on Y Tu Mamá También, which is quite possibly one of the sexiest movies you’ve ever seen, you split your attention between him and the screen. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths he’s trying desperately to mask. He wants to seem indifferent, but the growing bulge in his pants says otherwise.

Watching people kiss on screen makes you want to get your lips on him, but they’re stuck around the ball gag. You mumble around it with no thought as to what you’re saying and chastise yourself. Now he’ll wait even longer to touch you.

Centering yourself, you focus on the television and get lost in what’s happening in front of your eyes until Spencer’s fingers graze over the cotton, now damp with your arousal. A whimper escapes you, your body instinctively pulling toward his retreating fingers like a magnet. “You’re very wet, my little slut.”

He’s not making any eye contact and it’s driving you crazy. The ball gag isn’t enough for your mouth; you want his cock sliding over your tongue, hot and heavy. Even though it’s one of his favorite things, you haven’t given one in months, probably because you’ve both been too wrapped up in becoming parents.

When he stands up, you assume he’s going to the bathroom or something, but instead he reaches down without a word and hooks his fingers into your cotton panties, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor.

“Now I can see what’s mine.”

You toss your head back. Fuck, you want him to touch you. Your wrists are tied together, but you can still reach your pussy and you want to touch yourself but you know better. Punishment awaits if you do and as much as you normally love it, your oversensitive nerves aren’t in the mood for a spanking right now. Spencer takes his time, inching closer and closer to you without touching you, but then he finally puts you out of your misery, gliding his pointer finger up and down your sodden pussy.

A whimper escapes around the gag and he smiles, relishing in how needy you are for him. How the simplest of touches can have you on the edge in the snap of a finger. You mumble please around the gag and somehow he makes his touch even lighter, driving you even more crazy and frantic for some relief.

Finally, the movie comes to a close. There’s a wet spot on the couch from your arousal. You still haven’t come, and honestly you don’t care. You just want the gag out so you can suck your husband’s soul out through his cock. “What should we do now, love?” He asks, as he unbuckles the gag and begins to loosen the ties around your wrists. “I saw your mind spinning. You weren’t focusing on the movie much.”

“I couldn’t, Sir.”

“Why is that?”

“I was thinking how badly I wanted your cock in my mouth.”

“Is that so?”

Nodding, you drop to your knees in front of him and palm his length over the soft material of his pants. “Yes, Sir.”

“Would you like to show me how badly you want it?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Spencer stands with his legs slightly wider than his hips as you tug the sweats he’s wearing down around his thighs. He moans when you lick one long strip up the length of him. His familiar tang makes you moan. “Love your cock, Sir.”

You’re soaking. If you look down, you have no doubts you’ll see another pool of arousal starting to form. And you don’t fucking care. Angling the tip into your mouth, you push your tongue out and roll it over the underside of the head, in just the right place that makes him melt.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, pushing his hands into your hair. “You’re so good at this.”

His admiration and appreciation sparks you to do even better. With one hand, you grasp his balls, massaging and gently squeezing around them in time with the movements of your mouth. Spencer likes it when you’re dirty - loves it - so when you don’t bother swallowing any spit; you just let it drip around him and onto the floor.

As you bob up and down on his cock, you allow yourself to gag around him, just a little bit. His balls start to tighten in your grasp and you know he’s close. You want him to explode. Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you push down on him, swallowing until your nose is just touching his skin, your tongue just millimeters from his aching balls.

When he looks at you, your gaze meets his and his eyes practically go black with lust. “Gonna come, baby.” He hesitantly thrusts into your mouth. You want to gag around him, pull him out because you’re just on the verge of not being able to breathe, but then you remember your training and stop in place, inhaling through your nose for the air you need as he explodes in your mouth. Only when he’s trembling above you do you pull off him with a satisfied pop. “Jesus, Y/N,” he laughs. “You trying to kill me?”

“Just trying to suck your soul out through your cock.”

“Mission accomplished.”


	10. Chapter 10

Your due date is a week away. Technically, Charlotte could decide to make her entrance any day now. The past two months haven’t been great for you. Your back hurts like a motherfucker. You’re tired all the time. And being so round makes you feel seriously unsexy, as in you’ve had sex like twice in the past two months.

Spencer hasn’t made any stink about it at all. He’s massaging your feet and rubbing your back any chance he gets. But you can tell he misses the closeness and you do too. Given your stupidly huge belly, there really isn’t a super comfortable position for you to have sex, or sleep honestly. Sleep is elusive.

When he wakes up, you feel his length against your ass, but you have to turn to face him because you’re starting to get uncomfortable in this position. “Morning, Spence. I need to pop already. I wanna meet our baby.”

“Me too,” he mumbles. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet, so you decide to surprise him. Just because you aren’t feeling your sexiest doesn’t mean you don’t want to make him feel good. You miss being able to do that for him.

Pivoting your legs back so your stomach doesn’t get in the way, you reach down and palm his cock over his boxers. When his eyes pop open, you laugh. “Shh,” you whisper against his perfect pink lips. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Spencer chokes on his words as you lick at your hands and return them to his cock, gently gliding up and down and in between your fingers. He’s already bucking into your hands. “Missed this.”

“Me too.”

“I might be embarrassingly quick today,” he chuckles.

You don’t mind. The first time you have sex after Charlotte gets here, you’re probably going to shoot off like a teenage boy discovering masturbation for the first time. “It’s okay, Spence. Just let go for me.”

“Fuck.” He bites down on his lower lip as he thrusts into your hand. With what purchase he can find, he grasps your face in his hands and tongues at your mouth, groaning as he spills into your hand. “You’re amazing.”

“I may not be comfortable enough to have sex right now, but I still want you to feel good.”

He reaches behind himself to grab a tissue for you. “Well, I do. And you’re right, you really need to pop because I wanna see her. I want that next level of realness.”

Slowly, you both manage to get up and start the day. Since you’re the size of a watermelon, Spencer goes out to do the grocery shopping, leaving you to wander into the nursery. You would’ve done laundry or dishes or something, but Spencer’s been on top of all the chores lately, so you have nothing to do.

After the baby shower, the nursery is nearly filled to bursting with all things baby. Your mom and dad bought all the necessary furniture that wasn’t the crib. JJ and Will got you a set of Winnie the Pooh drawings to hang on the wall. Emily bought the diaper genie. Derek and Savannah gave you what seemed like 6 months worth of diapers that Savannah said would probably only last three months or so, much to your horror. Even though she and Luke bought the crib, Penelope still bought Charlotte a stuffed unicorn. Toys, books, stuffed animals, and pretty much anything you could think of was purchased already, even some formula, which you planned to use to supplement breastfeeding, mainly because Spencer insisted that you shouldn’t have to get up every time Charlotte had to eat just because you were the one with boobs.

The only wall that still doesn’t have anything on it is the one with the dresser against it. Painting had always been a hobby of yours, though you’d indulged less frequently the past few years, getting caught up in your relationship, marriage and impending parenthood. But as you stare at the wall, you have an idea and go to grab what little paint you have. You only have black left, but it’ll work for the idea floating around in your brain.

You squeeze out some black paint onto a paper plate and lay it on your stomach as you walk back into the nursery. Without thinking, you dab the brush in the paint and start to glide the bristles across one of the plainer white walls. In one of the older Winnie the Pooh books, you remember an image of Pooh and Piglet walking away from the ‘camera’ and talking to each other.

As you’re thickening the outline for Pooh Bear and starting in on Piglet, Spencer returns with the groceries, but you barely register it as the brush continues to move.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What are you doing?”

“I just had a feeling.”

“It’s Pooh and Piglet right?”

“Yea. I’ve missed painting.”

Spencer kisses your head and goes to unload the groceries before coming back to just sit in the nursery and watch you paint. You finish off with one of your favorite Winnie the Pooh quotes.

“How do spell love?” - Piglet

“You don’t spell it, you feel it.” - Pooh

“I’m not even the pregnant one and I’m about to get emotional,” Spencer says when you turn around, your impromptu project complete. “Now go sit and relax for a little while.”

You didn’t realize until just this moment that your feet were starting to hurt. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

—

Hours later, while Spencer is cooking, you get up to use the bathroom. “Uh oh,” you breathe, ending your thought on a laugh. “Spence, I-I think my water just broke.”

Instantly, the calm, cool and collected Dom and husband that you know turns into a frenzied father-to-be, running into your bedroom to grab the diaper bag he’d prepared the week before. You follow him inside and change your underwear and pants. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not about to go in there looking like I pissed myself.”

“We’re having a baby!” He says emphatically, like this is somehow news to you.

The next 14 hours fly by in a blur of needles, beeping heart monitors, doctor’s voices and searing, fiery pain the likes of which you’ve never experienced. Was this how the Salem witches felt?

It’s the worst pain in the world. You want to die. But the moment she’s out, you burst into tears, reaching out for her as she’s placed on your chest.

She’s perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank the gods Spencer isn’t a neanderthal. Otherwise, he’d be taking offense at the fact that you want nothing to do with sex right now. Post-baby, you’re still bleeding. It’s at the point where the bleeding is getting lighter, but for a few weeks it was like you had the most intense period ever. You’re always tired. You have spit up on your clothing no matter how often it’s washed. Basically everything in the sexy department has gone the way of the dodo bird.

Anything and everything you both do is Charlotte-centered. And when either of you get moments to breathe, they’re normally spent napping or taking a coveted and missed shower. You didn’t shower for a week after she was born. It’s the most disgusting you’ve ever been. But baby.

The thing that took you off guard most of all was how emotional you were. If you can’t find a cereal bowl? Time to cry. If you forget to press the button on the dryer and now you have to wait twice as long for dry clothes? Why not cry? If Charlotte burps, and it’s the cutest little sound you’ve ever heard? You should probably cry. Nothing makes sense.

But Spencer is there though it all, assuring you that everything you’re feeling is normal. Most of the time, he doesn’t reply. He just allows you to talk. And it’s what you need. 

What really gets you bawling is seeing Spencer with her. He’s taken to calling her ‘his little flower.’ The first time you heard it you cried for 10 minutes straight. Most times, when he talks to her, he’s simply rattling off statistics as if she’s any other person instead of a weeks-old tiny bean that is dependent on your every move.

Yesterday, after getting out of a much needed shower, you walked outside, wrapped in your towel to hear Spencer telling her a joke. “Hey Charlie, what do you call a duck that gets straight A’s?”

He waited for an answer and laughed to himself, barely able to get the punch line out “A wise quacker!”

You snorted so hard he turned around, but when he glanced between you both, his mouth dropped open. “Get over here!”

“What?”

“She’s smiling!”

The window was open but you gave zero shits, running toward your two favorite people clad in only a towel. Sure enough, there was a little smile like sunshine. “Tell her another one,” you whispered.

“What do you call two birds in love, baby?” The cheesy grin on his face could power a small city. “Tweethearts!”

“She’s smiling!” And then you started to cry again, sitting down with them on the couch as Spencer regaled her with the best dad jokes he could possibly think of.

—

In the middle of the night, Charlotte begins to cry, so you sleepily push the covers aside and pad across the floor, taking what feels like ages to get from your bedroom to the nursery, which is right next door.

As you pick her up, you sing-song. “Charlotte, it’s okay. Mommy’s here.” You check her diaper and quickly change her. Those first few weeks you stumbled trying to wrangle little baby legs and a diaper at the same time, but now you’re a pro. But she still cries. “You hungry, baby?”

Cradling her gently, you pull your shirt up and slip comfortably into the rocking chair your mother passed down to you. It’s a beautiful oak, almost 40 years old, that she’d rocked you in herself. Apparently it’s hunger, because Charlotte quickly latches onto your nipple and suckles away. Your eyes are heavy. Babies are beautiful, wonderful and more than occasionally exhausting. But you’re supplementing breast milk with formula so that Spencer can get up for feedings too and he did the last one, so here you sit on the verge of sleep with your daughter in your arms.

To keep yourself awake, you start to sing.

“Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood,

Where Christopher Robin plays.

You’ll find the enchanted neighborhood,

of Christopher’s childhood days.A donkey named Eeyore is his friend.

And Kanga and Little Roo.

There’s Rabbit and Piglet.

And there’s Owl.

But most of all Winnie the Pooh!”

You tap lightly against her little tummy and can’t help but smile when she looks at you. She’s a whole little person, and she’s yours. It’s life-fulfilling and terrifying all at once.

Once she’s finished eating, you wipe away the extra milk and put her over your shoulder, hoping to get a nice big burp out of her so she won’t wake up with an upset stomach.

She belches loud enough to make mommy and daddy proud and it makes you laugh. “That’s it, Charlie.” When you go to lay her down in the crib, she winds up again, almost like a toy, stopping when you hold her again. “Okay, how about Mommy sings you to sleep?”

It’s your tried and true.

“In my daughter’s eyes

I am a hero

I am strong and wise

And I know no fear

But the truth is plain to see

She was sent to rescue me

I see who I want to be

In my daughter’s eyes.”

As you continue to sing, breathy, sleeping lyrics falling from your lips, you don’t even notice that Spencer is awake until he comes to stand at your side. “She needed booby time. And songs.”

“Something she and Daddy have in common,” he laughs. “She’s so beautiful. Can you believe we made that?”

“Still doesn’t feel real, does it?”

“Not at all. But she’s perfect.”

When you glance down, her little eyes are closed, so you chance placing her back into the crib. This time, when you put her down, she stays asleep. “Bed time,” you say sleepily, clutching Spencer’s hand. “You get the next one.”

“How long is it until she sleeps through the night?” He asks. “Not that I don’t love Daddy daughter time, but man am I sleepy.”

“Me too. Dr. Obel said about 4-6 months at the earliest, usually.”

“We’ve got a way to go,” he replies with a laugh. The moment your heads hit the pillow, you’re out like lights.


	12. Chapter 12

“Spence, can you please do the dishes?” You ask for what feels like the 80th time. You need to cook more so that you all can fucking eat for another few days, but that means you’ll dirty dishes and the sink is already full.

He’s grading some speaking assignments for another professor who called out with an emergency. He wasn’t even supposed to be working right now; he’d taken paternity leave. Twice now he’s said he’ll get to it as soon as he can, but you need it done now and you’re desperately trying to rock Charlotte through this stomach bug she has. You have two arms. She’s been crying for what feels like 3 days straight and you’re about at your wits end.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, a hint of exasperation heavy in his voice. “Almost done.”

“Spence! Please!” Your booming voice carries throughout the apartment, causing Charlotte to screech in pain or exasperation or something entirely; you don’t know anything anymore. All you know is you feel the same. You want some sleep.

Spencer’s head quickly turns toward you. In a split second, you’re sobbing just as hard as Charlotte. It’s constant lately. You snap. Spencer snaps. Charlotte cries. It’s an endless cycle and it’s so frustrating because it’s so the opposite of how your relationship has been up until this point. You want to keep Charlotte, because she’s the light of your life, but you also want to go back to the way it was before her.

Across the room, Spencer quickly puts his work aside and walks toward you, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s me, too. I’m at my wits end.” Breathing is difficult in the middle of an overworked-mom panic attack. “Sorry I snapped.”

“Sorry I haven’t done them all day. I know you’ve asked me 10 times already.” He pauses, thumbing a tear away as it falls down your cheek. “We’ll get through this.”

“Get through what?”

“She’s at an age where everything is overwhelming and she’s crying and we’re new at this so we still can’t fully handle it. Our entire life is completely different and we’re still adjusting, but we’ll make it through. Okay?”

Cradling Charlotte’s head against your chest, you sit at the kitchen table and pull your shirt up, wondering if she’s hungry. A few minutes before, she wasn’t, but babies make no sense.

Apparently she’s hungry now. She finally settles down and latches on, suckling as her eyes close. She looks so peaceful. And the emotions are still weird and random because now you feel bad for being mad at her two seconds before. This tiny little baby who relies on you for everything, and you were mad at her.

“I can hear myself think,” Spencer says surprised. “It’s a miracle.”

An exhausted laugh escapes you. “I haven’t been able to think in days.”

Running water and Charlotte’s soft coos are all you hear now. “How about we do take out for dinner tonight?” He whispers, wanting to maintain the hard-earned peace floating in the air. “We haven’t had Thai in a while.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” Shame washes over you. You’d promised him you’d cook today because you’d been eating take out for days; since Charlotte came down with the fever. But you can’t get your shit together. “After she goes to sleep tonight, can we just…talk? I need to talk to an adult. I feel like everything’s baby and I need to get some shit out.”

She’s asleep and you praise every God in creation.

“You divorcing me?” He asks with a smile.

“No,” you laugh. “I’m just struggling and I feel like you should know. Before this, between us, you always knew how to take care of me, and me with you. I’m not saying sex right now because I still can’t handle anyone touching me. I feel gross and tired and completely unsexy, but I think I need some of the structure we had before. You know?”

Nodding, Spencer dries his hands with the dish towel and walks behind you, massaging the weeks’ worth of tension from your tight, aching shoulders. “I do. I’m not saying this to invalidate what you’re going through, but I’m struggling too.”

“Yea?”

“Yea. I hate not being able to just make things better. I want to wave a magic wand and have us in a place where we know what we’re doing, but unfortunately we both have to work to get there.”

“Reality sucks sometimes.”

“Reality does suck,” he chuckles. “Now, do you think you can chance passing her off to me without her waking up?”

You nod and pass Charlotte over, reveling in the small, sleepy smile Spencer gives her.

“Now go take a nap and I’ll order Thai. I’ll wake you up when it gets here.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spence.”

—-

Later that night, Charlotte falls asleep again, around 8PM, and you and Spencer decide to just call it a night. Exhaustedly, you fall into bed, against him, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “Having a baby is hard.”

“Yea,” he replies. “Really hard. Good thing she’s cute.”

It makes you snort. Because that feeling is so real right now. “I miss you. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” He sighs heavily and kisses the top of your head. “I miss you, too.” For a moment, you sit in silence with each other, just taking each other in like you used to, before Spencer speaks again. “So tell me what’s bothering you?”

More tears. You don’t mean for them to come out, but they’re right at the surface so it’s inevitable. When you hesitate, Spencer prods, “I’ll always be your safe place. It’s okay.”

“This is just really hard. I love her with every single fucking fiber of my body, but I miss our old life sometimes. When I have time to think,” you say. “When I can’t do everything, like tonight with dinner, I feel like a failure of a wife. On top of that, I miss my old body. I feel so gross. And then on top of that I’m freaking out about going back to work and leaving her. There’s just too many things coming at me and I don’t know how to process any of it.”

Your entire body is shaking with a feeling you can’t explain. You didn’t want to admit any of that. You’re supposed to be strong, giving control over to someone else only when you choose to, but you don’t feel like that anymore. However, relief floods over you all the same, like it just needed to come out.

Spencer helps you breathe through the awful shaky feeling, fingers gliding gently over your arms. It’s soothing. “I need you to listen to me. We agree that this shit is hard? Right?”

“Yea.”

“You are not a failure of a wife. You are the most amazing wife I could ever ask for. Even when you yell at me.” He grabs one of your hands and slips his fingers between yours. “I still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. As for work, I get that. I’m dreading it. Not because I don’t want to go back to work, I do. I just also want to be here. I want to be two people. And when it comes to missing our old life, I get that too. We can ease back into things - when you’re comfortable. Anything you need in particular?”

For a while, you’d been wondering. “With all this mothering shit, I feel like I have no control. And while I still enjoy having you take the lead, I was wondering if occasionally I might…take the lead. Like 15 percent of the time.”

Spencer laughs at the percentage. He likes percentages. And stats. And facts. “I think I can get into that. You let me know when you want to be the leader and when you want me to shut your brain off and fuck you senseless okay?”

“Okay. That sounds good. I love you, you know.”

“I know.”


	13. Chapter 13

Going back to work had been hard for the first few days, but you knew Charlotte was safe with your parents, so as the days went by it got easier. Spencer was a basketcase the first day he had to go back to teaching, phoning your parents every five seconds for baby updates, but you’d both made it through.

Charlotte grows every day. She’s four months. Has chubby little cheeks. Eats like a linebacker. She smiles and even laughs. She’s fucking beautiful. Every ounce of heartache you’d gone through up to now, and everything you will endure will be worth it because she’s perfect.

On the way home from work, you get a text from Spencer. It’s one of his early days, so he’s already at home.

Charlotte’s with your parents for the night. We have a date. <3  
Six months have passed since the last time you had sex. You still don’t love this new body you have, but you refuse to let it get in the way because you miss him. You want to feel that physical closeness again.

After replying, you slip the phone back into your pocket and drive home, excitedly singing in the car with no regard for who might be watching.

When you get home, Spencer is already in your bedroom getting ready. You walk in and your mouth drops open. On the bed, sits a beautiful, brilliant, royal blue evening gown with sleeves off the shoulder and a slit up on the side just past the knee. The skirt flows delicately across the floor. And it’s in your size. The size you are now. Not the one you were before you had Charlotte. “Spence-” There are tears in your eyes. This you didn’t expect. “It’s beautiful.”

“You haven’t been able to feel beautiful in months. It’s time.” He pulls you in for a kiss before stepping back. “I want you to slip it on and pin your hair back. You’ll wear your black strappy heels and the necklace I got you for our wedding.” With a soft smile, he leaves the room for you to get ready.

Instructions.

You’d missed them.

Happily, you strip down to your panties and put on one of those sticky, backless, strapless bras. Your boobs are still enormous, so the bra doesn’t do much, but it’s enough that you don’t hate the way you look in the dress once it’s on. Slipping into the bathroom, you pin up your hair, just a little bit on both sides. On one side, you braid two small braids and pin them up too before returning to your bedroom to grab the necklace Spencer wants you to wear - a forever hearts necklace that he gifted to you the night before your wedding.

You take a deep breath and examine yourself in the mirror. The dress is a bit too tight in the waist area and you don’t love the slightly sagging boobs and stretch marks that have started to form, but you almost feel like a woman again, and it’s nice.

Stepping outside, you see Spencer staring out the window. It’s a crescent moon and the skies are clear, stars shining. At first, he doesn’t see you, and you finally have the chance to register the fact that he’s wearing a tux - it’s his wedding tuxedo.

Of course you’re looking forward to whatever he has planned, but you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to wanting to return home and peel every inch of that beautiful suit off his frame. He’s all hard angles and soft skin, his former dominant, confidence returning to him in the clothes that remind you of a different time - one that’s helped you to grow into who you are today. “Hey,” you breathe.

When he turns around, his breath hitches. “Hey. You look gorgeous.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you reply, crossing the space between you and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips. A small sigh escapes you when he tips your head up with his finger and washes his tongue over your lower lip. You’re smiling like a schoolgirl, like you were before the craziness of breastfeeding, endless diaper changes and much-needed sleep.

Spencer takes your hand and leads the way.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

Spencer smiles, almost mischievously. “It’s a surprise.”

—

Twenty minutes later, you’re outside town, more grass and suburbia cloaking the landscape. When you pull up to the restaurant, you almost start to cry again. Months back, almost a year now, you’d mentioned wanting to go to this place - Foster’s Prime Steak & Lobster.

Once inside, a peace washes over you. It’s warm and fiery, polished wood walls providing a soft mirror for bouncing candlelight. There’s a piano in the corner with a professional at the keys, just about ready to start his set. Spencer wants to take the lead. And you want to let him, following behind as he approaches the maitre’d. “Two for Reid,” he says.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” the man says, familiarity filling his voice. “We’ve been expecting you. Follow me to the back room.”

“The back room?” You whisper.

“When I told your parents, they insisted.” Before you can say anything, he continues. “Dinner is ours, the private room was courtesy of them.”

You make a mental note to thank them later. Spencer orders a bottle of wine. He knows what he’s talking about, but all you know is that it’s red. Once the maitre’d leaves and you wait for your waiter, Spencer instructs you to choose three different entrees you might like and he’ll choose between them.

It’s a good thing he’s choosing for you because there are way too many options. After much deliberation, you decide on either filet mignon, crab cakes with a cajun sauce, and beef wellington.

A waiter enters with complimentary bread with oil and garlic and oregano for dipping, setting it carefully between Spencer and yourself before lighting the candles that sit in candelabras along the walls and the one that sits on the table. “Welcome to Foster’s. Have you dined with us before?”

You shake your head as Spencer replies.

“What brings you here?” She asks. “Anything special?”

“Our first date since welcoming our daughter, Charlotte. She’s four months.”

The moment she congratulates you, you have a warm feeling, so you pull out your phone and swipe through a whole range of pictures, which she coos over.

“Well, I could sit here all night and look at her. She’s precious. But I’m sure you’d like to eat. Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

Both of you nod excitedly, the heavy, rich scent of steak wafting through the restaurant. Spencer rattles off your orders like it hasn’t been over six months since you’ve done this. “We’re going to split the ahi tuna appetizer. I’ll have the crab cakes and she’ll have the beef wellington.”

“Sounds so good,” you sigh, thanking the waiter, Maria, as she leaves the room.

Spencer reaches a hand across the table and lays it on top of yours. “I figure we can split our meals that way you get a taste of both.”

“Have I told you how much I love you? You fucking get me.”

He chuckles in reply. “Damn right I do.”

Everything is stupidly delicious. The beef wellington is crispy and flaky and buttery in feel and taste. The crab cakes are delicious, although the spicy sauce makes you feel like a fire breathing dragon. They’re a little hot for Spencer and you break down in laughter watching as he tries to douse the flames with water and wine before stuffing a piece of bread into his mouth.

Neither of you can finish your meals. Though the prices are high, the portion size is comparable, so you decide to take the other half of both your meals home for tomorrow night’s dinner. “That’ll be nice. Eating crab cakes and beef wellington with baby spit-up on us.”

“Parent life,” he laughs. “Wanna split dessert?”

“Yes, please.” You know there are five options, but sweets are your weakness. “There’s no way I can pick. You have to.”

Spencer takes a quick look at the dessert menu before setting it to the side without a word. When Maria returns, he orders the Sugar Salted Caramel Apple Pie with Tahitian Vanilla Ice Cream. You already need a moment alone.

When she returns about 10 minutes later, slice of pie and ice cream in hand, you dig in. An uncontainable moan slips from your lips. “Holy fuck, this is so good.”

“You need a minute?”

“Absolutely,” you reply with your mouth full of sweet, caramelly apples and flaky pie crust. “Spence, this was wonderful. Thank you for surprising me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “I think we both needed and deserved this.”

“Definitely. Umm…when we get home-”

“Yes.” His response is so quick you snort.

Maria returns shortly after with the check, which you don’t bother to look at, not wanting to freak out over price. Stomachs full of food, Spencer leads you out of the restaurant and tells you to close your eyes for the ride home. You’re startled awake when he turns the car off and you’re already home.

Words aren’t necessary as you climb the stairs to your apartment. For the first time in over half a year, you feel like his sub again, following his lead. It’s not everything you are, but it’s part of who you are, and you’ve really missed this part.

Fumbling with the keys, Spencer manages to slip it into the lock and get your both inside before backing you into the wall, his hands hurriedly wrapping around you to peel the zipper of your dress down. He breathes a litany of curses and admiration into your mouth as he lets the dress drop to the floor and peels the sticky bra off, casting it aside without a care. When one of the cups hits the wall and sticks to it momentarily, you both break into a fit of laughter.

As he tongues at your mouth, you run your hands over the tuxedo jacket and slip it off his shoulders, your movements clunky and hurried as you slip the buttons of the shirt through their loops. Biting down on his lower lip, you snap the belt through the loops on his pants and quickly tug them and his boxers down, allowing them to fall to the floor. “God, Spence, I need you.”

He wraps his hand around your lower back and pulls you close, his other hand slipping into your panties, fingers swiping against the slickness that has gathered there. A loud moan escapes you at his touch. You haven’t felt it in so long. Not like this. Snaking his hand back up, he tastes the arousal lingering on his fingers and groans, taking your panties off before pulling you into his lap on the couch.

His cock is hard against your pussy and you grind against him before slipping your hand between your bodies to push him inside. Spencer growls low against your throat when he slips inside, thrusting upward as you fuck yourself down onto him like a woman possessed - frenzied movements and renewed feelings making you body blush as you cry out and bring Spencer over the edge with you.


	14. Chapter 14

In the warm sunlight streaming through your window, you can feel Spencer’s arm fitting snugly around your waist, holding you close. As you begin to stir, you realize he’s already awake too. Since it’s a weekend day, you have no plans, aside from taking care of the adorable time-vampire that is Charlotte Magnolia Reid. “So what are we doing today, handsome?” You mumble, the words barely decipherable to your own ears.

Spencer kisses the back of your hair before nuzzling his nose into the side of your neck. It tickles and sends you into a fit of laughter that ends up with you laying on top of him. “We aren’t doing anything,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “But you are.”

“What?”

Is it mom brain fog? Have you forgotten something you had planned?

When Spencer clocks your quizzical look, he laughs. “I have a surprise for you. You have to be ready by 11 AM.”

Spencer playfully smacks your ass when you get up before following you to the bathroom, where you get in one of your rare shower quickies. And Charlotte hasn’t woken up yet! Rejoice! She’s not sleeping through the night just yet, but she’s down to only waking up once or occasionally twice.

While you dry your hair, Spencer gets Charlotte, who finally begins to stir. They pass the bathroom and you sneak a kiss to your baby’s cheek. “I’ll be right there for feeding!” You cry out from the tiled walls.

“There’s a bottle left in the refrigerator, I got it!”

Since you have no idea where you’ll be going, you put on minimal makeup and then walk outside to where Spencer’s feeding Charlotte on the couch, talking to her about the people passing by on the street below - making up stories about them. “Babe, I don’t know where I’m going so what do I wear?”

“Wear one of my graphic tees and your most comfortable pair of leggings.”

With your instructions, you slip into your bedroom and get dressed. Spencer’s shirt is a tad too tight considering the girls are still big, but it’s good enough and the next few hours pass without any major incidents aside from a bit of spit up on Spencer’s pajama shirt.

As you’re rocking Charlotte to a mid-morning nap, there’s a knock at the door. “I’ve got it,” Spencer replies when he sees you go to get up.

Emily, Tara, Penelope and JJ are plowing inside in a matter of seconds, cooing over ‘little baby genius Reid.’ “Good god,” Tara says softly. “She’s so beautiful. How do you two not stare at her every second of every day?”

Sometimes it’s difficult, with her soft brown hair like her father’s and big beautiful eyes the same color as yours. “Well, some days, we do exactly that, and other days she doesn’t want to sleep or she’s sick and driving me crazy, so then I normally see the inside of the pillow into which I’m screaming,” you say quickly, flashing them a cheesy grin.

JJ snorts. It’s been a while, but she remembers the feeling well. “Did Spence tell you what we’re doing today?”

Shaking your head, you glance toward where Spencer’s standing in the kitchen, gathering ingredients together that seem to be for tonight’s dinner. “Paint and wine class,” he says proudly. “After I saw you painting Charlotte’s nursery, I knew it had to be done eventually.”

“Aww, you’re so romantic, I love you.” You swoon and run to kiss him, blushing as the girls ooh and ahh over Spencer’s sweet gesture. He’s your everything in every way. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Spencer takes her from your arms and looks down to talk to her, shaking her little hand with his fingers. “We’ll be okay, right? You won’t kill me?”

Laughing, you grab your purse off the counter and give him another kiss before leaving with the girls. It’s been ages.

–

Thankfully, Dr. Obel cleared you a while ago for the occasional cup of coffee or glass of wine, despite still breastfeeding, so you nurse the hell out of a glass of red at the painting party. Besides you, Emily, Tara, JJ and Penelope, there are four other women there that know each other and are much less animated. In other circumstances, you might feel bad about being so loud and laughing like a maniac, but you haven’t had a girls’ day out in months, so fuck it.

At these classes, they always have someone teaching and a specific painting is chosen ahead of time. After a while of listening to the instructor, you paint what she’s painting, but at your speed and adding little flourishes here and there. While most of the ladies have basic paintings (because admittedly they’d rather be drinking than painting), you end up with something you’re really happy with.

Shadowed pine trees sit on a moonlit lake, stars, trees and the moon alike mirrored in the lake’s surface in a myriad of colors. Bob Ross is one of your biggest influences when it comes to painting, and by the end, it feels like you’ve done him proud. “Damn, Y/N!” Emily says, taking the last sip of her third (and last) glass of wine. “Spencer said you could paint, but that’s fucking spectacular!”

All the ladies, and even the instructor, praise your work. At first, you deny it and tell them it’s not all that, but eventually you allow yourself the praise. Something you’re working on. “Ladies, this was amazing. Can we make this like an every other month thing? Every third month?”

“Hell, yea,” Penelope says, quickly picking up one of the hors d'oeuvres and shoving it into her mouth. “Man, thith iz gud.”

“Sewiously, I ‘eed the recipe,” Tara replies with her mouth equally full.

The subway ride back to your apartment is filled with random girl talk and lots of baby talk. Everyone wants to know Charlotte’s milestones and to see every single picture you’ve ever taken, which is already a lot given she’s less than a year.

Upstairs, you all walk in just as Charlotte needs a diaper change. When Emily and Tara offer to take dirty diaper detail, you just smile and sink into the couch. You’re not about to argue with just a little extra time off mom duty.

“Well, this was amazing,” JJ says, running her finger down Charlotte’s cheek. “You guys need anything? All set on food and stuff?”

“Yea, JJ,” Spencer replies. “We’re all good. For now.”

Once the ladies leave, you gather Charlotte close to your chest and lift your shirt. The time away refueled your batteries and you sigh happily when she begins to eat.

“Have a good time?” Spencer asks. You point back to the painting which is propped against the wall near the door. “That’s beautiful!”

“Thanks, babe. And thanks for the surprise. It was really nice to have a girls’ day.”

Spencer’s hand sits around your shoulder, his fingers slipping delicately into your hair. “I’m glad you had a good time. I have my girls right here.”

“Did you two fare okay?”

He nods and you both sit in silence for a moment. You lean into him, content and relaxed. The peaceful atmosphere allows your mind to wander and when you mind wanders, it tends to walk into dirty territory; today is no different. “Hey, Spence, I have what might seem like a weird question.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever thought about you know, maybe doing that wonderful thing you do with your hands while getting a firsthand taste of breast milk?”

Immediately, his pants tighten. “I hate the fact that it has been a consistent thought since your boobs grew, yea. Definitely thought about it. Like I don’t wanna sit here and have you feed me or anything, but like…a little taste? Yea.”

“Wanna maybe give it a go later?”

A smile is all the answer you need.

—

Later that night, once Charlotte is finally asleep, you and Spencer practically trip into your bedroom, peeling off clothing like you’re in a nudist colony.

Spencer groans appreciatively when you jump into his arms and peel off your shirt and bra. He carries you toward the bed and plops you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, laughing as he wriggles you out of your leggings.

When he descends upon you, eyes hungry and hands frenzied, your smile fades into a lust-filled gaze that has Spencer nipping at your neck and chin and lips. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbles against you, honeyed voice running deliciously up your spine. For a moment you get in your head; you don’t feel gorgeous as of late, still a ways away from your pre-baby body, but Spencer snuffs that thought out of your head. “Stop thinking and feel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slithers his way down your body and licks a stripe up your slit with a flattened tongue, moaning at your taste before slipping two fingers into your sodden pussy. “So wet for me already?”

“Always for you, Sir.”

Spreading your legs with his hands, he crawls back up, nipping and biting and sucking at any and every patch of skin that pleases him. And all you have to do is lay back and enjoy it and he calls you his good girl.

When he latches onto your nipple, the tug on your breast is similar but the feeling is altogether different. The way he rolls his tongue over your nipple causes you to arch into him, gathering his hair in your hand and pushing him closer. Every time he nips at your nipples, bringing them to taut peaks, it shoots straight to your core and you buck into his hand. “So wet, Sir.”

“Does this get you off, love?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Excuse you,” he says, immediately stilling his fingers.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels wrong. Taboo.”

“And that gets you off?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My dirty girl.”

Switching from nipple to nipple, never leaving one untouched for too long, his fingers stroke at that sensitive spot inside you. You buck down into his hand and reach between you, slipping your hands into his pants to stroke softly at his hardening cock. “Come for me, Y/N,” he breathes, his palm sitting heavily on your clit. “I want you to come for me.”

His words ignite a fire inside you, white hot light bursting before your eyes as he latches onto your nipple one last time. “Fuck, Sir,” you laugh shakily, stroking his cock harder and faster. “Now, come for me. I need to see you.”

Spencer bites down on your lower lip and pulls away, hissing through clenched teeth as his orgasm starts to roll over him. “That’s it, baby. Harder. Keep going.”

All you can hear over the sound of your movements, wet and slick and rough, is the rolling growl that leaves Spencer’s mouth when he comes in your hand and over both your stomachs. “Shit.”

“Have fun?”

“Yes,” he laughs, exhaustedly collapsing at your side. “You feeling okay? You were getting in your head for a second. I could feel it.”

“Yea, still having body issues. But I’m working on it.”

“I have an exercise for you to do. Not physical,” he says quickly. “A self love one. Every morning when we get up, I want you to look in the mirror and say one thing you like about yourself. You can start with things that aren’t physical and then work up to physical.”

A sleepy, content smile spreads across your face. This is the dynamic you always wanted - someone you could rely on in every single way. Even at your lowest, your craziest, your most overwhelmed, Spencer is there for you, telling you how beautiful you are as you drift off in his arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Mirrors are supposed to show your reflection, but apparently not. Staring back at you is a woman with sunken eyes who looks like she’s been punched. This woman’s hair is practically standing on end. Her lips are cracked. She’s a hot fucking mess. But as Spencer instructed, you look in the mirror and admire how shiny your hair is. It’s all over the place, but it’s shiny. Win.

Charlotte has an ear infection, so she’s been crying constantly. Not as bad as the first time she got sick when she was younger, but pretty bad. After work is more work. Getting home means starting dinner (if you’re home before Spencer), doing laundry, washing dishes, vacuuming, cleaning up Charlotte’s messes, changing her diapers. It’s an absolute never-ending cycle. There’s no control. And then it dawns on you.

Walking out of the bathroom, you step back into the kitchen where Spencer is attempting to play peek-a-boo with Charlotte. “Hey, Spence?”

“Yea? Everything okay?”

“Uh, yea, I’m just feeling really frazzled and out of control so I was wondering if we might try that switching thing tonight?” You give him a big cheesy grin and clutch your hands together. “Please?”

Spencer smiles, his hands still hiding his face in an attempt to get a reaction from the little one. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it. You have any ideas?”

“Mayyyybe.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes that you recognize as the kind of look you get when Spencer teases you about the night’s plans. It makes you feel good.

Somehow, your overwrought nerves manage to make it through dinner and getting Charlotte to sleep. She almost sleeps through the night yet. Another month or so and she’ll be sleeping through. “Wanna go to bed?” Spencer asks, grin wide and wild.

Nodding, you get up on your tiptoes and kiss him. “Yea, I’ll be right there. Why don’t you go in first, get totally naked for me and I’ll be right there?”

“Yes ma’am.”

As he walks away, you have to resist the temptation to just chase right after him and jump his bones, instead deciding to sit by Charlotte’s crib for a few more minutes, just watching how peaceful she looks. Once enough time has passed, you walk confidently into your bedroom to see Spencer lounging against some propped up pillows in all his naked glory. When Spencer goes to talk, you shush him. “Did I ask for you to speak?”

“No,” he says, zipping his lips with his fingers. He looks proud. And aroused.

Slipping off your tank top to reveal your new lacy, light pink bra, you watch Spencer’s eyes widen. Your boobs are still pretty big, because you’re still breastfeeding, but you’d indulged in one new bra to accommodate your larger girls. Spencer hasn’t seen before, and by the subtle twitch of his cock, you can tell he enjoys the view.

You turn around and bend over, wiggling your ass just so as you search for what you need. A metal clink and cool steel sent a shiver up your spine. Turning around, you smile at Spencer and swing the cuffs around your finger. These are the real deal because Spencer purposely forgot to give them back once he retired from the BAU. “Hands above your head.”

Spencer complies without a word, a smirk crossing his lips as you dip onto the mattress and fasten the cuffs around his wrists. “Make sure you keep your hands gripping the headboard. If you let go more than once, I’ll edge you three times before I let you come.”

He bites his lip, undoubtedly tempted to disobey just for the sake of getting your lips around his cock. It’s what you normally do in his position. Hopefully he’ll be a good boy. You grab a silk scarf out of your drawer and hold it out to him, silently asking if he’s okay with being blindfolded.

When he nods, you crawl back onto the bed and straddle him, rubbing back and forth against him as you tie the scarf around the back of his head. “Comfortable?”

“Yea, I’m good. I mean, I want you to ride me more than I can possibly express, but I’m comfortable.”

Snickering to yourself, you slip off the bed and remove your pants, panties and bra, pinching at your nipples and bringing them to taut peaks before getting back on the bed to straddle his lower legs. You bend forward and grip his cock in one hand, running your tongue up the underside. Using your saliva, you run your hand up and down, twirling your hand around the head of his cock before starting the process over again.

With each twist, you graze that area just under the head that drives him crazy, and soon enough, he’s bucking into your hand. “Can I come?” He asks.

“I don’t think so,” you reply, smiling wide.

Spencer huffs and tries to control himself as you take all of him into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gag and pull up, spit pooling around the base of his shaft, which you use to cup his balls. “Do you wanna come down my throat, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Ask me?”

“Can I come down your throat?”

“Thank you for asking. Yes, you may,” you laugh. You return to your earlier motions, taking all of him with each pass of your mouth, your hands following in your wake. Sucking cock makes you feel powerful, even if you’re on the ‘bottom.’ Watching him as he comes undone, knowing it’s you that’s making it happen? One of the best feelings in the world.

Every time he hits the back of your throat, you hear him moan, and it only makes you want to move faster. As his muscles tighten, you lightly squeeze his balls and sheath yourself on him, mumbling your approval around him when he comes; the tang of him is heady and rich and you swallow it all down appreciatively. “Good job, baby. Do you want me to ride that cock now?”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

“Would you like the blindfold off?”

He nods, and you push the scarf down around his neck before cupping your own breasts, heavy and full. Knees astride, you tilt his head down so he’s looking at where you’re touching him. “Watch while I sink onto you.”

Spencer growls and it makes you smile. He’s having a hard time controlling himself. Good. Now he knows exactly where you’re coming from when he’s telling you not to come.

Moaning, you toss your head back and pinch one of your nipples, which makes you tighten around him. “God, you feel so good, Spence.”

You bend down, body flush against his as you move your hips up and down, tightening your walls around him with each pass. Glancing up, you see his hands move away from the headboard, so you smack them. “Keep them up there or you don’t get to come again,” you command.

Spencer grabs the headboard again and cranes his head up, nipping at your neck as you continue to thrust down onto him. “Come on my cock,” he says, his voice husky and tight.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, come on my cock, Y/N. Fuck me.”

Hearing him beg is something you could get used to - on occasion. Warmth floods your entire body at his words and you start to tremble around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathe. “Gonne come.”

As you clench around him, he growls, gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles go white. “Shit, Y/N. I- I could do that on occasion…I mean…if you want.”

“Oh believe me, I want.”


	16. Chapter 16

Six months! How the fuck is she six months old already? It simultaneously feels like she was born ages ago and like it was just yesterday. On weekend days now, you take turns sleeping late. You have Saturday, he has Sunday or vice versa.

The rich, swirling scent of coffee wakes you up and you turn to your nightstand to see a steaming cup sitting there. Out in the kitchen, you hear the muffled cacophony of clanging dishes and Charlotte’s beautiful babbling. She can’t talk yet, but she’s starting to look at you and attempt speech, which is so fucking cool. If time allowed, you’d sit there day after day and have nonsensical conversations with her.

A sip of coffee slinks down your throat, pulling a contented sigh from deep within you. Coffee is the perfect creation of the gods; there’s no denying it. As you set the coffee on the side table, Spencer barges in. “You have to come outside!”

“What’s the matter?” You ask, popping up from the bed quicker than you thought possible. Is something wrong? Is she projectile vomiting like the Exorcist? “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” He smiles wide and points down the hallway to where Charlotte is sitting. “Look!”

Your tiny little angel is sitting all on her own without any support at all and you almost want to cry. “Look at you!” Running down the hallway, you drop to sit right in front of her. “Charlotte, you’re sitting all by yourself! You’re such a big girl!”

“Mmmmmmblehblah.”

“You don’t say?!”

Spencer slips behind you and back into the kitchen, sliding some bacon and eggs onto plates for the both of you. “Come eat before everything gets cold.”

When you go to stand, Charlotte starts to cry, so you pick her up and perch her on your hip, eating one-handed; you’ve become a pro in that department. From across the table, Spencer makes faces at Charlotte. Her little laugh is quite possibly the best thing you’ve ever heard. “Duh, duh, da-da.”

Both your eyes light up. “Say what?” Spencer asks. “Did you just say something?”

“Dada!” Charlotte exclaims, flapping her arms up and down. “Dada! Dada! Dada!”

Spencer discards his food and practically lunges across the table to take your now incessantly babbling into his arms. “You said, Dada!” There are tears in his eyes, and that’s what gets you. You start to bawl like, well, like a baby.

Now Charlotte’s confused, but she knows your reactions are good and keeps going. “Dada, dada, dada!”

“Yea, baby, it’s dada,” he replies, grabbing her tiny little hand in between his thumb and forefinger. He presses a kiss to her fingers, a tear rolling down his cheek.

These are the moments you live for.

–

Adjusting to baby life has been exceedingly difficult and equally rewarding, especially in times like these when she’s hitting milestones left and right. Dada is her only real word, but she babbles like crazy; you can tell she’s going to be a rambler like her dad, and you love it. She can switch from lying on her back to her belly and back again. She sits by herself. She’s gonna start getting into everything soon.

Honestly, that’s kind of terrifying.

With another semester starting soon, Spencer’s nerves are a little raw, so you decide to take Charlotte to the park. The scent of freshly mown grass wafts through the air as you step onto the dirt path near the still lake. A blue sky above boasts few clouds and the breeze is just enough to keep you comfortable.

As you walk, a few passersby become enamored with Charlotte and stop to say hello, but for the most part, you and Spencer get to walk in silence, taking turns pushing her in her carriage. She’s asleep and it’s such a gorgeous day out you decide to sit at the lake’s edge and talk it all in.

Spencer decides to channel your dating days, reciting some of your favorite poetry while you sit in his lap, his back up against a sturdy tree trunk. You get lost in it and nearly 45 minutes pass before you check on Charlotte, his wide-eyed and awake, her head craned toward where you were sitting, like she was listening.

While you take Charlotte out of her carriage to feed her, Spencer takes a blanket he’d stashed underneath the stroller (to your surprise) and lays it out flat, tossing you an apple he’d picked up a few days earlier. “Tummy time?” He says to her excitedly.

After burping her, Spencer lays her on the blanket and claps happily as she turns herself front to back and back to front over and over again. Then she looks between you, sitting across from each other, and doesn’t know which way to go. “Where are you going, my little flower?” He asks. “Me or Mommy?”

Much to your surprise, she begins to push herself up by her arms, wiggling her back end in an attempt to crawl. It’s a little clumsy, but she’s managing. “You’re crawling! How are you this big already?”

“Can we make it stop?” You ask, a tear falling down your cheek. “She’s growing too fast.”

As she crawls into Spencer’s arms, he laughs, kissing her cheek before replying. “If only. We just have to savor her infancy while it lasts.”


	17. Chapter 17

Every single morning, you speak positivity into the bathroom mirror as per Spencer’s instructions. Some days it sticks and it feels real, and other days it feels like you’re speaking to someone else entirely, the message slipping past your lips and over your head before disappearing into thin air.

You look sadly at your skin and jiggly stomach, wrinkled and stretched, as you slip into your work clothes. Pregnancy added about 40 pounds to your frame and you’re still holding onto about 25 pounds of it. Slowly but surely it’s coming off, but it’s even harder to lose weight now that you’ve had Charlotte.

Spencer walks in from the bathroom and instantly notices you glancing into the full-length mirror near your bed. It’s vintage, stained wood and one of your favorite things, although lately not so much. “Hey,” he says softly, kissing your temple and tipping your chin toward him with his thumb and forefinger. “You’ll get there. And until then, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“I love you,” you mumble, sleep pulling at the corners of your eyes. Charlotte’s been running a bit of a fever the past few days, so sleep is touch and go. “I’m getting there. Having more good days than bad ones, but I guess today’s a bad one.” The bad ones feel like fucking mountains. Traversing them without Spencer would be a nightmare, but thankfully that’s not your reality.

Spencer presses his lips to yours and for a blissful moment, you forget how you feel about yourself and get lost in him. “Hey,” he says. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as his lips ghost the corners of your mouth, peppering kisses over your lips and nose. “How about we have some fun today?”

“We have work,” you laugh, slipping your hands around his waist under the suit jacket he’s wearing. His warmth is so inviting. All you want to do is stay here for eternity, but…life. “You have something in mind beforehand?”

Snickering, Spencer pulls you into a heady kiss and steps away. “We barely have five minutes and even I’m not that good under pressure-”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” You smile into his neck, remembering all the times, both past and recent past that he’s had you quaking in minutes.

“Well, thank you love. But I was actually thinking at work.”

You raise an eyebrow, inviting him to tell you whatever he has in mind.

“You have lunch at 1, right?” When you nod, he continues, his smile almost sinister. “Good, make sure you answer your phone at one.”

With that, he walks out the door, not looking back, leaving you in a perpetual state of anticipation until he decides to put you out of your misery. It feels like old times.

—

The hours at work either slip by or feel like they’re passing into eternity. Sometimes, you glance at the clock in the corner of the computer screen and a half hour has passed. Other times, you feel like you’re sitting at school, staring at the clock, begging for the hands to move. As you work, it’s difficult to keep your mind focused. Mainly because it’s too busy running through the plethora of different scenarios Spencer could have planned for you.

The whirlwind of thoughts has you clenching your legs at your desk, slowly pushing back and forth against the chair in search of some kind of relief; but it’s a joke. There’s nothing there and you aren’t about to touch yourself without Spencer’s instructions; them coming from him is what makes it so fulfilling. Finally, the clock hits 1:00 PM and you excuse yourself for lunch, staring impatiently at your phone, waiting for Spence’s name to pop up.

“Hey, Spence,” you say eagerly. “We meeting up somewhere?” You can’t wait. Maybe a quickie up against your office building? Sex in the car?

“No.” He speaks coolly. “Go to the bathroom.”

Your legs tremble slightly at the smoothness of his tone. You whisper in reply. “Yes, Sir.”

Once inside one of the stalls, you tune out everyone walking in and out and focus on the frantic thudding of your own heart. “Sir?”

“Undo the buttons on your pants, touch yourself and then take a picture. I want to see how wet you are.”

A million questions come to mind. Where is he right now? Is he touching himself too? Breathing heavily into the phone, you do as he instructs, imagining him stroking his own length in his car in the University’s garage. “Hold the phone to your pretty pussy. Let me hear it.”

You bite back a high-pitched whimper and lower the phone to where you’re slipping your fingers against your slick folds. As your middle finger slides against your clit, you hear the wet sound and feel a flush of embarrassment. What if one of your co-workers can hear you? Shakily, you pull the phone back up to your mouth. “Was that satisfactory, Sir?”

“Yes, love. Sounds like you’re sufficiently wet.”

“I am, Sir. I’ve been imagining this all morning.”

“Does this live up to expectations?”

“It exceeds them, Sir.”

“Good,” he replies. You can practically hear him straightening up in his seat, driven by the effect he has on you. “Keep touching yourself. Make yourself come right there in the stall like a good little slut.”

Blushing at his praise, you decide to get out of your head and embrace the task at hand, fluttering your fingers over your folds and clit, varying in speed and pressure until the mental image in your head becomes too much. “I wish these fingers were yours, Sir.”

“Imagine they are,” he says thickly. “Use your pointer and middle fingers. Imagine they’re mine sliding back and forth over your clit.”

Whimpering, you massage your sensitive bud and clench your thighs around your hand. “Sir, can I fuck myself on my fingers?” Your voice is barely audible, but he gives you permission. Slipping your fingers inside, you buck down into your own palm and fuck yourself. God, you wish it were Spencer. You wish he was here right now fucking you against the bathroom stall outside your office. “Should I come, Sir?”

“No,” he says dismissively, as if it’s obvious. “Remove your hand.”

With a whine, you do as you’re told and go to grab a piece of toilet paper to clean yourself off, but before you can, he tells you to FaceTime him. “Anyone there?” He mouths.

For a moment, you listen for the sound of running water or footsteps, but you hear nothing. “No, Sir.”

“Good, lick your fingers clean. I want to watch.”

Your pussy is quivering as you lift your fingers to your mouth, slowly licking each digit, lapping your tongue around and around without a thought, like a doll, until Spencer tells you to stop. When it comes to cleaning your arousal, you always aim to do a complete job. “Good girl,” he says with a smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You’re on edge, just short of manic. He’s not done with you yet.

And yet you have to go back to work.

Fuck.

—

Later that night, after Spencer prepares dinner and manages to get Charlotte to sleep, he meets you back outside at the kitchen table. “Strip,” he instructs. This is what you love. What you’ve missed. The ability to not question. Just do it.

Heat floods through you with that one word, your work clothes easily slipping from your body and onto the kitchen floor. You leave them in an unceremonious pile. Again, the blinds on the window are open, so someone could see you from the apartment building across the street. But you don’t care. All you care about is that you can feel yourself slipping into the submissive skin again, and it feels amazing, safe, right.

His fingers entwine with yours as he leads you into the bedroom, guiding you to kneel in the corner of the bed that faces your full-length mirror. He comes to kneel behind you. Instead of looking away, you confront your image, and settle on the look in Spencer’s eyes: reverence.

When his hands slide over your stomach, still a little jiggly, stretch marks forming where they hadn’t been before, you allow your hands to float over them. “Look at me.” Your gaze floats upward, his warm eyes penetrating. “This is where my baby was. In here. You carried her for nearly ten months.” He presses kisses to the back of your neck and in between your shoulder blades as he talks. “Your body might’ve changed. But it is no less perfect. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

For the first time in a while, you actually feel the words, deep down in your soul. He grabs your hands and guides them behind you, slipping both yours and his into his pants to push them down around his knees.

You close your eyes contentedly as your hands slip around his cock. He thrusts through them a few times before grasping your wrists between his hand and placing himself at your entrance with the other, sliding home as he pulls back on your arms.

As his cock fills you, you moan, reveling in the feel of him, hot and thick and strong. “Look up,” he demands softly. When you do, you see your eyes glazed over with lust, mirroring Spencer’s own, his hand gently settling around your neck to help hold you in place.

With every powerful thrust, your body shakes. Your mouth begins to drop open, spit pooling on your tongue. “Don’t swallow it. Let it come out. Watch how gorgeous you are.”

Everything else, the lingering scents from dinner, the soft sound of traffic outside, it all flows to the background of your mind, allowing his heavy breaths and your small whimpers to put you into a trance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…Sir. I’m gonna come.”

“Who says you’re allowed?”

“No one, Sir.” You swallow the answer back as you beg your body not to betray you. “Please, Sir.”

“No.”

Spencer pulls you almost flush against his back, one arm sitting around your waist as the other travels down to your pussy. “Earlier, you said you wished your fingers were mine,” he says against the shell of your ear, his middle finger flicking against your oversensitive clit. “How does that feel? Look into the mirror and tell me.”

You stare at your reflection. It’s both unknown and familiar. With his cock filling you to the hilt, he holds you in place, lips trailing over your neck as you speak. “Feels amazing, Sir. Will you make me come? Please?”

“Of course, love.” His fingers massage you, your pussy pushing forward against him. “Just look at your reflection when you do. If I see you looking away, I’m going to edge you at least four times.”

“Yes. Sir. I will. I promise.”

Low thrusts and his fluttering fingers quickly cause your body to buck against him, your orgasm building from the depths of your toes and rolling forward. As promised, you ask permission, watching with captivated eyes as your body shakes.

“Don’t you look beautiful, love?” He asks, pulling your hair back from where it had curtained in front of your eyes.

It’s so easy to say. “Yes, Sir.”


	18. Chapter 18

Today, your little 8-month-old dumpling is with your parents so that you and Spencer can have a day off together. Very early on in your relationship, Spencer had approached you with the idea of glory holes. As in going somewhere that you could safely partake in such a thing. He had this idea of watching you, the depraved lengths you’d go to for him, as it was something he’d done with a previous sub nearly 10 years earlier.

When he first brought up the idea, you’d had an immediate reaction to it - your legs turning to jelly at the thought of sucking however many cocks Spencer wanted you to. Once the idea came up again, he said he had reservations (since he wasn’t great at sharing) but that you could play it by ear.

After considerable research and asking around in the BDSM circle, you settle on a place that has a good reputation. Very clean. Everyone’s very respectful about the dirty, disgusting things you do together, playing by the rules and indulging each other’s darker sides. Spencer opens the car door for you, hands a bit shaky, and you ride to the place in silence.

Although originally the idea excited you, and to a degree it still does, the practicality of it is something else. In reality, you’re pretty sure you don’t want any other man but Spencer; disappointing him is a possibility, and you don’t want that, but you refuse to push yourself beyond your limits either. Spencer wouldn’t want you to do that. 

Spencer pulls up to the place and parks the car, nervously exchanging a glance with you. Just as you go to speak, he does too.

“I’m not sure about this.”

“I don’t wanna do this.”

Both of you speak at the same time and you laugh. It actually makes you a little emotional. “I don’t wanna suck anyone’s cock other than yours,” you reply as you caress his cheek.

“In my head it sounds great, but I don’t want to see you do that either. I just…didn’t want to disappoint you. I remember you liking the idea.”

Relief floods over you. “The idea, yea. But thinking about it makes me a little-” You flutter your fingers in front of you a bit. “Eh, you know?”

“So no?” He asks hopefully.

“Yea, let’s go home.”

On the drive back, your nerves steady out. “Hey, Spence,” you start just as he opens the door to the apartment. “I think I have an idea. A good substitute for us.”

“Tell me.”

“Can I show you?”

His eyes blow wide with lust as he nods, following you to the bedroom where you dig into your chest of toys. Occasionally, before Spencer retired from the BAU, he’d have you use a dildo that you could stick onto the wall or the bathtub, and he’d watch you fuck yourself on it.

“What if we stick this to the wall, and you can fuck my throat and fuck me into it?”

Spencer swallows hard and dips down to bite your lip, quickly stripping you out of your clothing and pushing you down to the floor on your hands and knees. “Sounds like the perfect plan to me. Why haven’t we done that?”

He grasps your chin in his hand and tongues at your mouth before crawling behind you to affix the dildo to the wall in a comfortable position. Once he has it right, he pushes you back onto it, watching with rapt attention it pushes past your swollen lips. This idea was percolating in your mind the entire way home, so you were more than ready to go without any additional preparation.

The dildo sits snugly inside you and Spencer comes back up to kneel in front of you, pulling his cock free of his jeans, which he tugs down and lets fall around his knees. At first, he teases you, slapping his cock against your tongue. He’s heavy and full. When he bucks forward, allowing you little kitten licks to the head of his cock, you lurch forward, desperate to get your lips around him.

You love the way he laughs at your desperation. Continuing his torture, he finally gives in when it becomes too much for both of you. He cradles your head and guides his cock into your mouth. His tenderness combined with his sure hand drives you crazy. As you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock, you moan at the taste. He doesn’t taste like anything, but he tastes like Spencer.

Groaning around him, you push yourself back and forth and take as much of his cock as you can, immediately thrusting backward onto the dildo with equal force. Under hooded eyes, you can see a smile pulling at his lips as he watches you struggle. You want to have all of him and feel the fullness of the dildo, but moving back and forth only gives you one at a time. Oh the struggles of a needy submissive.

Towering over you, he shuffles forward on his knees and sends you back into the wall. “How’s that, love? Full pussy and a full mouth?”

In appreciation, you mumble around him and roll your tongue over and around his cock before he slides down your throat. With each pass of his cock, your pussy tightens around the plastic dildo, molding to each smooth, veiny inch. Spencer grunts above you, losing himself in the feel of your throat.

When he starts to pick up the pace, you gag around him. But you don’t fight it, you just allow the sound of it to pull you further into the trance he has you in.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes. “Stay right where you are. Don’t move.”

Happily, you still yourself and let Spencer use you, the force of his thrusts impaling you on the instrument behind you.

“If I touched you right now, how wet would you be?” He asks with a teasing tone. He loves the fact that you can’t answer because your mouth is full. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re soaked. Because you’re a little slut that likes to have her holes filled.”

Eyes sparkling with fresh tears, you smile around him, groaning around him when he muscles spasm and he comes down your throat with a raspy cry. After swallowing him down, you immediately peel yourself off the dildo and roll over on your back, sliding his cock against your tongue as you grab his hand and bring it to your pussy. “See how wet that made me, Sir?”

As he slides his fingers in and out of you, you continue to tease his cock. He’s overly sensitive, hissing with pleasure at each swipe of your tongue. “Sir, please shove your cock down my throat while I come?”

Spencer sucks in air through his teeth, trembling as he slides himself into your mouth and continues teasing you, ghosting his fingers over your folds and slipping his fingers in just enough before removing them again. Pulling his hand away, he rubs back and forth over your clit with a ferocity he doesn’t normally embrace. Your body lurches into his hand just as he slides down your throat. As your orgasm washes over you, your throat tightens, ripping a growl from your husband’s mouth.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. How do you do that?”

Laughing, you kiss the head of his cock. “I had a wonderful trainer, Sir.”


	19. Chapter 19

Spencer turns over and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his back as sleep begs for you to return for just a little longer. “Don’t forget, Derek and Savannah are coming to visit today,” Spencer mumbles.

“I know,” you reply. As much as you want to go back to sleep, you’re looking forward to seeing them. The last time you saw them was just before Charlotte was born, and between babies and distance the phone was all you had to stay in touch. Spencer’s been looking forward to this for ages. “Wanna go tackle diaper and clothing changes together?”

Like zombies, you both rise from the bed and stumble into Charlotte’s nursery, but the moment you see her sitting up in her crib with an enormous smile on her face, you can’t help but wake up a little bit more. “Hello, my little flower,” Spencer says softly, picking her up and placing her on the changing table. “You sleep okay?”

Neither of you woke up during the night, so the answer must’ve been yes.

While Spencer takes care of her diaper change, you search through her mountain of clothing (She has more than you. How is this possible?) and finally find what you’re looking for - a little mint green sweatsuit with Minnie Mouse on it and Minnie ears on the hoodie. Getting her changed is actually more difficult than when she was a newborn because she has control of her limbs and basically wants them in any other area than where they need to be.

Feeding is fun though. She makes the funniest faces when she hates something and when she loves something, her eyes go wide with awe, like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, which is hysterical. While Spencer handles feeding, you make breakfast for you both, eating semi-leisurely before you have to handle the morning chores and get ready before Derek and Savannah arrive. Parent life means you have no idea where the hours go. Before you know it, there’s a knock at the door.

Setting Charlotte in front of a mountain of toys, you both go to greet your guests. With a baby, you cling to adult interactions like a magnet on a refrigerator. 

“Pretty boy!” Derek exclaims. “How ya doing?”

“Tired,” Spencer laughs softly. “But alive. You?”

Savannah walks in with Hank on her hip. “About the same. Expect being tired for the next, oh, 18 years at least. Right, Derek? How are you guys doing?” She asks, giving both of you a hug and kiss hello.

Conversation is easy, flowing as Hank and Charlotte play with each other in the living room. While they occupy each other, the four of you talk about work, and eventually Savannah and yourself stand against the refrigerator watching your boys reminisce about their days at the BAU. “Do you miss it?” Derek asks, peeking over the counter to make sure his little man is behaving himself.

Shaking his head, Spencer tips his second mug of coffee into his mouth. He still hasn’t woken up yet even though you’ve both been awake for hours. “I miss the team and seeing everyone every day, but I’m so glad I’ve made a different life for myself. I still teach and I consult every so often, so I get just enough while still being able to be at home.”

“Me too, man. At first I thought it was gonna drive me crazy, but now Savannah and the little man kick my ass enough.”

“You know it,” Savannah replies, slapping her husband on the shoulder as she throws her head back in laughter. “Plus, it’s just nice to have you home.”

Slipping into Spencer’s lap, you curl against him, all pretenses out the window as you lazily lounge there sans makeup and in the rattiest clothes imaginable. Silence falls when Hank starts talking to Charlotte and she starts babbling back. All four of you get wrapped up in how cute they are. “It’s nice to finally see you happy, kid.” Derek claps Spencer on the back. “You deserve it.”

“Cheers with coffee mugs?”

In unison, your mugs clink together and drink in celebration of your new lives. “Here’s to our families,” Spencer says.

–

After the four of you play with the babies for a while, with Spencer and Derek getting a little more into racing cars than Charlotte and Hank, you decide to chance going to a restaurant with a toddler and a 9.5 month old. You’re all craving Mexican and there’s a great place down the street that opened after Derek moved back to Chicago, so you decide to take them there. Just as you and Spencer and grabbing jackets out of the closet, Savannah screams out from the kitchen. “Umm, guys? Has Charlotte stood before?”

Like a cartoon, you do a double take at Spencer before the two of you rush out into the living room with your limbs hanging both in and out of your jackets. There’s Charlie, in the kitchen, right next to Savannah, standing next to a chair. “She’s standing!” Spencer smacks his hands to his head, practically ripping his hair out in excitement. Charlotte stares up and smiles. “Holy crap, you’re standing, Charlie!”

With tears in your eyes, you quickly slip your phone out of your pocket and press record, watching as Savannah takes hold of her tiny little hands and walks her toward Spencer, who’s crouching down at her level, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

“How is she so big already?” You ask, turning to Derek, who also has his phone out. “Does it just fly by like this?”

Glancing down to where Hank is still occupied with some matchbox cars, he replies fondly. “It really does. Feels like he started walking yesterday. Right?”

Savannah is too entranced with helping Charlotte over to Spencer to respond.

Derek slips on his coat and walks behind Spencer, clapping both of you on the shoulders. “She’s about to get into everything,” he chuckles. “Get ready.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Are you absolutely, positively sure you’re okay with this?” You ask, wringing your hands together as you wait for your familiar guest on the living room couch. It’s your birthday and this is Spencer’s gift to you, but you want to make sure he’s truly okay with this before you proceed. “The sharing doesn’t bother you.”

Spencer eyes you hungrily, and runs his lips down the side of your neck; behind his eyes, you see a movie playing, undoubtedly imagining what’s about to happen. “Not with a woman. Maybe that’s hypocritical of me, but I’m okay with her. And there’s something about me only being involved with you that puts my mind at ease.”

Apparently, after you’d divulged that you wanted to experiment with a woman, Spencer began looking into things as a surprise for you. At first, he perused reputable websites recommended by members of the community, but it was all too tenuous and unknown for him to settle on someone. That’s when the idea came to him.

At the party you went to before you got married, where he tied you up and fucked you in front of an entire room of onlookers, there was a beautiful woman with auburn hair that both of you found attractive, so instead of continuing with the exhaustive searching through a website, Spencer decided to ask within your circle of kink pals, and luckily enough, the beautiful woman was interested. And luckily for you, your parents were free to babysit so you could go on another ‘much needed date.’ They didn’t have to know what you did on your dates.

Her name is Christina.

“You excited?” Spencer asks, his mouth scrunched up in semi-uncharacteristic bashfulness.

Nodding your head, you bite back a coy smile. You’d made out with girls at parties before, but you’d never done anything else. “Yes,” you reply, leaning into his embrace and giving him a quick peck on the neck. “But please, if theory and reality don’t mesh at any point, please call it. I won’t be mad or disappointed. I promise your happiness and you being comfortable is the most important thing to me. I will go an entire lifetime within eating out a single woman if that’s what makes you happy.”

Spencer growls under his breath and slides his hand under your shirt, fingers splayed over your stomach as he pulls you closer and presses a firm kiss to your temple. “I think watching all this is going to make me uncomfortable but in a very different way.”

Giggling, you nip at his ear. “A tight pants way?”

“Just a little bit,” he says softly.

You can already feel his cock harden against the soft confines of his flannel pajama pants. As your hands ghost above his length, there’s a knock at the door.

“All yours, love.” Spencer steps back and takes a seat in his favorite chair, allowing you to take the lead. The smile on his face pulls straight at your core.

“Christina! Hi!” Excitement laces your voice and she can obviously tell, a soft chuckle escaping her as she enters the apartment and slips her coat off.

She glances toward the corner of the room and gives Spencer a soft wave. “Hello, Spencer. Y/N. How are you both?”

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

Christina nods, quickly cycling through the ground rules Spencer had discussed with her during the planning of this whole thing. “I’m wonderful,” she replies silkily. “Just so I’m clear on things. It’ll just be you and me. You’ve never been with a woman before so I promise to make this worthwhile.” Her green eyes sparkle with delight. “Ever since that party last year I’ve been wondering if I could make you look like that too.”

You blush furiously.

As she continues, you lose yourself in the soft contours of her body, her jacket falling into a pool on the floor. “Spencer will be observing, instructing if he so chooses, and if he chooses to join in, it’s only with you.” When her eyes finally focus on you, you feel a pull inside yourself. “Oh, and the safeword is red if at any point either of you, or me, though I don’t see that happening, want to call this off.”

Glancing toward Spencer, your eyes ask whether or not all the ground rules have been discussed. With a slight nod of his head, Christina approaches you, pulling you into a kiss. Her lips are soft and yielding, yet firm. There’s no hesitation. You moan into her mouth as her fingers slide up and under your t-shirt, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver. She laughs into your mouth and pushes you against the door.

As her lips glide up the side of your neck, your touches are a little more hesitant. Nerves are there, but they’re the best kind. At first, you were kind of freaking out about how to make this a good experience for her too, but once you decide to just try what you know you like, the nervousness fades away, your fingertips sliding delicately underneath her shirt to the edges of her bra.

Her tongue probes your mouth, pulling you further into the moment. Aside from her soft whimpers, you can hear Spencer humming in approval across the room. Once you unhook her bra, you hurriedly pull her shirt over her head and yank the bra off before bending down to wrap your lips around her nipple. “Such a warm, eager little mouth,” she coos, glancing back toward Spencer. “She always so eager?”

“Yes,” he says proudly. “By all means, ignore me. Reap the benefits.”

Christina giggles and turns her attention back toward you, making quick work of removing your clothing and slipping her hand between your legs. She knows what she’s doing, her fingers practiced like Spencer’s but with an altogether different feeling. Not that Spencer can’t be delicate; he can when he wants to, but it’s her default. Almost immediately, she knows what proverbial buttons to push to make you squirm. And squirm you do, clutching your legs around her hand. “Wanna go inside?” You ask.

She nods, taking you by the hands and following your lead into the bedroom. Spencer follows behind at a distance, requesting that Christina eat you out before going the other way around. It’s easy for both of you to acquiesce to his request.

As you crawl backwards onto the bed, your eyes fall on Spencer. He’s stroking his cock through his sweats and his eyes are lust-blown. Have fun, he mouths. You fluff your hair against the pillow and watch as Christina, still wearing her soft blue panties, takes her place between your legs. You can’t help but appreciate the way she wiggles her ass, giving Spencer a good show.

Her fingers are teasing, ghosting your folds and your clit. With each move, she watches how you react. “She’s studious, Spence,” you laugh, sighing happily as she kisses your inner thigh.

Spencer clears his throat, moving his hands from the outside of his sweats to the inside. “I do love a studious woman. Just so you know she’s got a spot on the left side just below her clit that drive her fucking wild.”

“Good to know.” She doesn’t take her eyes off you, but guides her tongue in the direction Spencer suggested, laughing into you when you whimper. “Oh, very good to know.”

Closing your eyes, you relax your head into the pillow and tune in to the sound of Spencer’s low approving hum. You want to feel everything, but you don’t want to forget that he’s there. You need to remember he’s watching. That he did this for you. That he approves. Christina licks a stripe up your pussy and then kisses your folds, her fingers following in the wake of her tongue. “So sweet,” she whispers. Her breath falls on your clit and you buck down into her mouth. You want more. Need more.

You slip your fingers into her hair and guide her where you want her, biting your lip and smiling when her lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently as she slips two fingers inside you. Her other hand wraps around your thigh and rests on your mound, skirting, teasing. When she flicks the tip of her tongue against your clit, your eyes pop open and you cry out, which only makes her hungrier. She delves into your arousal and laps it all up, her fingers curling against your inner walls. Spencer’s got his cock in his hand and his muscles are tight. He mouths again. Come for me.

When you cry out, Christina moans into you and keeps up the pace, licking you through the rolling waves. The entire lower half of her face is coated in your arousal when she crawls back up your body, breasts heavy against your own. She pulls you in for a kiss and you taste yourself on her lips. “My turn,” you breathe.

With uncharacteristic dominance, you push against her arms and pin her underneath you, moving backward and wiggling your ass for Spencer as your fingers hook into her panties to pull them down. Her legs fall open for you, her sex glistening. Expecting to see Spencer there, you turn around to say something to him, but he’s already dipping onto the bed to kneel behind you. “Doesn’t she have such a pretty little pussy, Spence?”

“Mmmhmm,” he groans, swiping his cock up and down your sodden pussy. “Play with her while I play with you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Biting your lip, you nudge your nose against her clit, then your tongue, observing the way her eyes glaze over and her mouth drops open. You want to know what makes her tick. With your pointer and middle finger, you swipe against her folds and massage her, quickly finding that she prefers hurried, frenzied movements over gentle ones.

As you lap at her arousal, Spencer pushes himself inside you and Christina pulls at your hair, moaning for you to go faster, harder. “Spencer, fuck her hard. Drive her face into my pussy.”

With a growl, he complies, pulling back only to thrust forward with a force that rattles you in the best way. You can’t concentrate. Everything you’re doing is on instinct. You slip your tongue inside her and massage her clit with your fingers as Spencer fucks you. “That’s it, Y/N,” she whines. “Just like that. Slip your fingers inside me.”

Spencer’s pounding into you and you can’t breathe. But you don’t care. All you want to hear is both of them coming because of you. You tighten yourself around Spencer and guide two fingers into Christina’s pussy. Quickly, you find her g-spot and tap rhythmically as you roll your tongue over her clit. “Jesus, fuck, yea. Just like that,” she cries, grinding up into your face. If she likes it rougher, you’re more than happy to oblige, using your free hand to pinch her nipple, which sends her straight over the edge.

While Christina’s riding the high, Spencer plunges into your heat and smacks your ass, making you tighten around him as he comes. He pulls out and leaves you, returning to his seat in the corner of the room where he can watch as Christina flips you over again and lifts one of your legs up so she can rest her pussy against yours. She’s all softness, but her movements are hard, frantic, needy. Her body undulates against yours, slowly at first for your sake, but it’s not enough for either of you and Spencer knows it. “Ride her, Christina.”

She throws her head back and grinds against your sex. The pressure rises quickly, almost unbearably so. You’re so raw and on edge, so overstimulated in the best way that you come within minutes, sucking on her thumb as she falls over the edge again too.

Laughing, she collapses at your side. “Well fuck, Y/N. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve been with women before.”

“Just a natural, I guess.”

Kissing and touching, you revel in the newness of her touch a little longer as Spencer gets you both a bottle of water. “Well, this was fun you guys. I’d definitely be willing again if you’re ever interested.”

“We might just take you up on that,” Spencer says, crawling into bed as Christina gets redressed. “I want to thank you for making my wife’s birthday a special one.”

“A special birthday for a special wife,” she replies, her eyes falling on yours. “Will you walk me out?”

You slip your silk robe around you and walk Christina toward the door. “Thanks,” you say. It feels like it’s not enough, considering what just happened, but she replies with a breezy no problem, wishing you one more happy birthday before taking her leave.

Bounding happily back inside, you throw the robe to the side and crawl into Spencer’s lap. “Thank you, Sir. That was a lot of fun.”

His cock is rock hard, his voice thick. “It was fun for me, too.” He smacks your ass with both palms and playfully growls into your neck. “Now get over here and ride me.”


	21. Chapter 21

Miraculously, Charlotte is still asleep. Strips of sunlight, interrupted by the blinds on the windows, blanket your bare skin in morning warmth. It’s blinding you, but you’re too comfortable and melted into the sheets and Spencer’s embrace to move, instead choosing to close your eyes against the light.

Spencer breathes steadily, his head cradling into the back of your neck and for a few minutes you revel in the silence before he gently stirs behind you. “Mmmorning,” he mumbles, playfully squeezing one of your boobs. “Love these.”

“What, boobs? Or nice, relaxing mornings?” Turning your back against the sun, you arch yourself into Spencer’s arms and tip your head up, kissing the underside of his chin. He’s got a little bit of stubble because he hasn’t shaved in a few days, but you happen to like him with some scruff. When he palms your breasts again, you laugh.

“Both,” he insists. “But I meant these. Always been a boob man. And an ass man. You can’t make me choose.”

You love it when he gets all rambly, just allowing himself to be. Because you know that everything he’s saying is unbridled and real and raw. For years, he hadn’t allowed himself to be that way, and according to him, you were one of the only people he’d ever granted the privilege. “Charlotte still asleep?” He asks.

“Yup. Thank the gods she sleeps through the night now.” A thought re-enters your brain from the night before, and honestly the night before that. Nearly a month now. “Hey, Spence, you awake enough for a talk? Like a family talk?”

Spencer’s eyes pop open and a small smile cracks across his face. “Yea, what’s in that beautiful head of yours?” Sitting up, he pushes himself against the pillows and gathers you to his chest.

You swallow against the lump in your throat. He’s your fucking husband, so you don’t know why you’re so nervous. “You’ve always wanted more than one kid, right?”

“Yea,” he says, trailing off, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Muscles shake softly as your heartbeat races. “Do you think we’re ready for another? I’ve always wanted our kids to grow up together. Not a lot of years between them, you know?”

Spencer places his index finger underneath your chin and guides you to look at him. “Me too,” he replies. There’s that hunger in his eyes again. Even though you have dark circles under your eyes that look like they’re packing on vacation and stretch marks galore, he still looks at you like you’re the center of the universe. “Did you want to be pregnant again? Or adoption?”

Adoption had been discussed in the past. “I’m not sure just yet. I mean, I did love being pregnant with Charlotte, but my body went through a lot. And I always wonder about kids out there looking for a home, you know?”

“We don’t have to decide just yet,” he replies, nibbling gently on your shoulder. Goosebumps start to form on your skin as Spencer’s fingers ghost up and down your arms. He presses his lips to your shoulder and slowly starts kissing and nibbling up the side of your neck. “If Charlotte’s still asleep, maybe we can…?”

Chuckling under your breath, you turn toward him and place your knees on either side of his, straddling him and pinning his hardening cock in between your stomachs. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, grasping his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans at your roughness, his earlier mischievousness dissolving into something much more feral.

Hands graze up and down your back, fingernails gently scraping at your skin. You arch into him and tug hard at his bottom lip. When his eyes fly open again, they’re dark with need. “Get on your side,” he instructs, his voice a mixture of needy and early-morning husky.

Quickly, you flip over to your side into the mattress and lift your leg without Spencer even having to ask. With roughened palms, he pulls it back and grunts into your hair as he lines his cock up at your entrance. Every time, it’s like coming home. Everything feels right.

“Fuck, Spence.” You bite your lip and whine at the stretch. “Just like that.” Thrusting back onto him, you curl into yourself and grab his free hand, pulling it under your body placing it over your mound. “Finger your little pussy while you fuck me. Mark me.”

Spencer growls into your neck and grazes his teeth along the side, licking at your pulse point before biting down. You can feel his teeth push into your skin, his tongue rolling over the reddening skin to soothe it as he bucks into you. “Fuck, you get even tighter when I do this. You like being marked?”

That’s the understatement of the century.

Unable to form words, you respond by squeezing around him with each pass, rolling your hips against his sweet assault. But it’s not enough. You need him deeper and harder and faster. More. More of everything.

Words fail you. No instructions emerging. Instead, you pull off him frantically and turn around, pushing down against his shoulders so you can straddle him instead. “Need to fuck you.” He holds himself steady so you can slip back onto his length, moaning at the fullness from this angle.

Leveraging the strength in your knees, you move up and down on his length and grab his hair. “Watch.”

Spencer lets out a guttural moan that makes you smile. Makes you want to fill the air in the room with nothing but his groans. “Fuck, Y/N. Get over here.” Grabbing you by the back of the neck, he pulls you down flush against him and bites at your neck as you bounce your ass up and down.

With each pass, you change the rhythm, tighten yourself around him. You pull out any and every trick in the book to get him to bite harder, lose control. When his teeth bring that bit of pain that you’re looking for, you cry out and impale yourself on him, shaking and trembling before you quickly push back and take him in your mouth. The second your lips wrap around him he comes, pushing down on your head and sheathing himself in your throat.

Smiling, you swallow and pull off him with a satisfying pop. And as if on cue, you hear Charlotte start to stir. “I got it babe,” you laugh. “Try and calm yourself down before I get back.”

He laughs and pushes his hands through his hair. “That’s gonna be difficult.”

After a couple hours of tending to Charlotte’s needs and getting ready for your day outing with the BAU, you dress strategically, popping your jacket collar and fixing it so that no one else will be able to see the marks he left on you.

That’s just for you.


	22. Chapter 22

Over the course of the next few weeks, you and Spencer talk a lot about how you want to expand your family. The more you think about, the more sure you are in your decision, but bringing it up to Spencer as a finality is a little nerve-wracking. Again, you have no idea why. You know exactly how Spencer will react.

Charlotte is just a week shy of her first birthday. It’s astounding that she’s already growing into this whole little person. As Spencer cuts up some scrambled egg and banana (her favorites), you decide to bring it up. “So you wanted to know how I felt about another pregnancy versus adoption and told me to take my time, right?”

“Yea,” he replies, almost buoyantly. Your relationship with him, your family - it’s his pride and joy. If it weren’t for the fact that you were tired as all hell right after Charlotte was born, he would’ve had your desired three children all at once. Honestly, you would have too. “Have you decided?”

Nodding, you wait until he turns around, lovingly placing some food down on Charlie’s high-chair. “As much as I loved being pregnant, I think for my self-image and the fact that I’ve always wanted to adopt, I want to go with adoption. That okay?” You ask, nibbling on your lip. You know it is. You know Spencer. But something deep in the back of your head always worries. You’re a work in progress.

Spencer dips down to kiss you, whispering softly in response. “More than okay. Now we have to look into adoption agencies.” His easy, excited smile makes you feel a million times better in an instant. “What about closed or open adoption?”

“As long as the parent or parents want to be involved, I’m okay with that to an extent. Like I wouldn’t want them visiting once a week because that would be confusing to the baby as they grow, I feel, but like texting them updates and meeting up with them every so often I would be fine with. You?”

Thankfully, he feels the same way.

While Charlotte eats, the two of you talk more about what adoption means for your family. Especially when it comes to being chosen. Sometimes it’s months, sometimes it’s a lot more than that. On top of that, open adoptions come with more complications. Since the birth mother chooses the adoptive family, there’s the possibility that she will change her mind at the last second, so it’s a reality you have to come to terms with, no matter how difficult.

With orange juice for toasting, you clink your glasses. “To baby number two.”

—

The tenseness that settled into your shoulders during all this finally dissipates once a decision is reached. And it feels amazing. Even though it took almost the entire year to feel comfortable in your skin again, in your relationship with Spencer, as both his wife and his sub, you’re feeling confident in all aspects of your life. You’re not a perfect mother, but no one is. You’re not a perfect wife, but what is perfect and perfect is bullshit. And as a sub, you are as fulfilled as you’ve ever been.

“What’s so funny?” Spencer asks.

After putting Charlotte down to sleep for the night, you climb into bed and snuggle into Spencer. Whenever he reads to you, there’s nothing to worry about. Everything going through your brain comes to a full stop. “Nothing, I’m just happy. Finding our routine with Charlotte around has been difficult and it’s taken me about a year to stop looking in the mirror and putting so much stock in what I see, and I just…feel good.”

Slipping a bookmark in between the pages (more for you than him because he can always remember exactly where you left off down to the word), he places it back on the bedside table. “Want me to make you feel really good?” He asks rhetorically, knowing your answer. “Because I’ve got an idea.”

You lie back and pull the t-shirt you’re wearing over your head. Your attention is focused completely on him as he reaches down to the side of the bed to grab his belt. At first you think you’re in for a spanking and your pussy starts to quiver, but then he wraps it gently around your throat and you just give yourself over to him.

Playing around with the belt has happened before, but Spencer practiced on himself first, wrapping the belt around his own throat so he could make sure he wouldn’t be hurting you or impeding your ability to breathe more than you wanted him to. As the leather slipped gently around your neck, you gave yourself over to him and shut down all mental faculties. “On your hands and knees.”

Doing as he instructs, you rest your head against the soft blanket and whimper when he tugs on the free end of the belt. You push back into him, searching for him, but his hand remains still and the belt keeps you in place. “Does my little slut like putting her life in my hands?”

“Yes, Sir.” There’s something about knowing implicitly that Spencer could end your life right here and now but wanting to do the exact opposite that allows you that release, the ability to literally give over all semblance of control. “I trust you.”

He bends down and kisses the small of your back, every word he could possibly say rolled up into that one gesture. When he yanks on the belt again, gently bringing you into an all-fours position, your mouth drops open and you arch your back, shaking your ass a little for him. Spencer smacks your ass and grunts in appreciation, pulling you back against his still clothed length. “How badly do you want my cock?”

“So badly, Sir,” you whine, bucking back into him. “Please use me. I want you to. I need you to.”

Eyeing you hungrily, he bites the corner of his lip and lets the belt fall to the bed. “Show me while I undress and then I’ll give you what you need.”

While he hooks his thumbs into his sweats and pulls them down, you move your ass up and down on his length, feeling the hardening length of him press against your skin. Every move makes you more and more wet. Without thinking, Spencer bucks his own hips forward; he’s close and yet so far. Quickly, he moves backward off the bed. He can’t get his pants off fast enough.

Climbing back onto the mattress, you feel the dip and let out a slow, guttural moan when he pushes inside you with one swift movement. “Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck me, Spence.”

When his grip tightens on the belt, you’re slack-jawed, tuning everything around you out. You don’t want to think anything. You don’t want to see anything. You don’t want to hear anything. All you want to do is feel. His cock sliding in and out of you. Your arousal slipping down your leg. The tension on the belt around your throat cutting off just the right amount of air.

Every feeling starts to sharpen. You feel fuller and the belt tightens more. Air is minimal but none of that matters because you feel like you could float among the fucking stars. As you fall over the edge, Spencer tightens the belt again, helping pull you into the hypnotizing trance for just a little while longer.

When Spencer pulls out and comes onto your ass, you’re still quivering, hot and cold switching places in rolling succession. “God, I love belts,” you giggle softly as he pulls it off and tosses it back on the floor. He gathers you into his arms and clumsily crosses the mattress on his knees to set you back down on the pillows. He comes to lie behind you with every inch of him against your back. Both of you can’t help but yawn. In his arms, comfort lulls you to sleep.

—

The next day after you both got back from work and began preparing dinner, you flip open your laptop and start searching out adoption agencies in DC and Maryland and Virginia. You and Spencer take turns cooking and seeking out agencies, discussing each one and trying to figure out which one is the best fit for you. “What about this one?” Spencer asks, slipping a piece of banana into Charlotte’s mouth. “Cradle of Hope.”

You shut the stove off and sit in Spencer’s lap, glancing at the website and reading their about page. “Wanna call tomorrow?” You ask, smiling at Charlotte mashing a banana on her high-chair.

“Yes, please. I think Charlie needs a brother or sister.”


	23. Chapter 23

Never had punching a phone number into a keypad been so vomit-inducing. Your finger trembles above the waiting digits, but when Spencer rests his hand on your shoulder, you take a deep breath and dial the number for Cradle of Hope.

“Hello, this is Cradle of Hope Adoption Agency, this is Marcie speaking. How can I help you?”

With more authority than you felt, you reply. “My name is Y/N Reid. My husband and I are looking to adopt and were wondering if we could come visit and speak with an adoption agent?”

Minutes later, you have an appointment. “When is it?” Spencer asks.

“Saturday. You ready for this?”

Spencer smiles, eyes looking off into the distance, as if imagining what the future holds. “Absolutely. I mean, I’m also petrified because this is unknown and I hate unknown, but I’ll get over it,” he laughs.

If that ain’t the truth.

—

Over the next few work days, both you and Spencer try to come up with any and all questions you might possibly have about this whole process. Questions are simple, but the unknown path ahead is what shakes you both. Just because you get chosen by a birth mother, it doesn’t necessarily guarantee that the deal is done. In an open adoption, she can change her mind at any time. And that’s scary as hell.

“You sure about the open adoption?” You ask, biting your lip as Spencer drives through the sleepy suburb to the agency. “I mean, I am. But I’m also terrified.”

Spencer’s hand floats from the steering wheel and onto your lap, where he entwines his fingers with yours. “I want to at least try it first. I love the idea of having the birth parents involved to some extent, but if we end up getting chosen and then the birth parents change their minds a number of times, I would look at a closed adoption.”

That had always been your train of thought, and hearing Spencer mirror it puts your mind at ease as you pull into the agency’s parking lot. “Ready?” You ask softly.

After opening the passenger side door for you, he takes your hand and leads you inside in reply.

—

For some reason, you’d imagined this place like a hospital, sterile and unwelcoming, but it looks a lot like someone’s home, and Marcie, who you’d spoken to earlier in the week, greets you at the door with a warm smile. “If you’ll both wait right here, I’ll get Minnie for you.”

A few minutes later, an older woman with kind eyes, round-rimmed glasses and graying hair makes your acquaintance. “Well, don’t you two look precious,” she says without making eye contact as she leads you back to her office. “Tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

Nerves make you seize up, but Spencer is in his element and begins rambling away about how he’d never imagined meeting the love of his life in a bar and yet here you were, happily married for a little less than 2.5 years with a beautiful baby girl to boot. You contribute to the conversation by pulling out your phone and showing Minnie the plethora of pictures of Charlie you have on your phone. Nearly 20 minutes pass as she coos over your hazel-haired little cherub. “So you have this beautiful little girl. What makes you want to adopt this time around?”

Spencer looks to you and allows you to reply, considering the reasoning is mainly yours. “Well, as much as I loved being pregnant, it was very difficult on my body. I’ve also always wanted to adopt, so considering we have one ‘naturally,’ we both liked the idea of adopting for number two.”

Over the next hour or so, Minnie asks a million different questions - some you’d expected and some you hadn’t. What does adoption mean to you? How often do you still frequent bars? In the event that something happens to you, who’ll raise your children? Are you aware of the pitfalls of an open adoption? It never seems to end until she finally pauses a moment, takes a breath and replies. “I think you two would do well with us,” she says softly, rummaging around in her desk for what is undoubtedly the first of a thousand pieces of paperwork. “Anyone adopting with us is required to complete ten hours of what we call adoption education, which for our agency we use Adoption STAR. The first class goes over talking about adoption with family and friends, as well as when to approach the topic of adoption with your child given their developmental and social levels. Class two goes over children with special needs. Class three addresses open versus closed adoption in great detail-”

She sees the wide eyed looks on your faces and places a hand on both of yours. “It’s a lot, but you look like you’ll be able to handle it,” she says genuinely before continuing. “Class four goes into talking points when it comes to the kinds of identity issues some adoptees can face, as well as how those talking points are affected by the child’s race. Five discusses adoption law, and then there are some post adoption classes as well, though not as many.”

While she continues talking about the policies of the agency, she beckons you to follow her around as she gathers paperwork. You were aware of the fees going in, but thankfully your finances allow for an adoption credit, so those worries sit on the back burner for a while.

Once she’s gathered the mountain of paperwork, she sits you in a room near her office where people can fill things out. “When it comes to your profile, be open and honest. Don’t try and make yourself appeal to everyone. Use specifics. Not everyone will love your profile, but the ones that do will feel more connected to you if you go into the specifics of your life and your parenting journey. Good luck,” she sing-songs with a smile. “You’ll do great.”

When the door closes with a thud, Spencer’s eyes scan the hill of paper. “Ready to tackle this?”

“For a baby? Hell yea.”

—

Hours pass with nothing but hand cramps, pens gliding over paper and soft touches from across the table, but finally you finish your paperwork with enough time to grab dinner on the way home. After dropping the papers off with Minnie, you both bid her goodnight and slip out the doors of the agency into a sky that had been bright and blue when you’d walked in earlier. “Now all we can do is wait.” You lean into him, his warmth comforting in the chill that’s settled into the air.

“And take classes!” He says excitedly.

You giggle at how excited he is about new knowledge of any kind. His nervousness seemingly fades away with something to focus on. “And take classes,” you laugh, walking toward the passenger side door. Your brain is racing with information and possibilities. 

“Wait,” he says, eyes gleaming mischievously. He knows you need focus. “You drive, I have an idea. Think you can handle the wheel?”

“For you, Sir?” You ask, falling effortlessly into that familiar headspace. “Yes.”


	24. Chapter 24

So much waiting. Before this all started, you knew there would be long periods of waiting, and it hadn’t even been that long, it had been about three weeks, during which time you’d been taking your classes, but the waiting still had you on edge so often and so intensely that Spencer made some secret plans behind your back.

When your parents show up at the door, you stare blankly, confused, but they take no offense and pull you in for a hug. “Spencer still hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?” You laugh so loud Charlotte looks up quizzically from her toys, eyeing you with a smile before she sees your parents. Her little legs carry her quickly across the room and into your mother’s arms.

Grandma assaults her with kisses, which she can’t seem to get enough of lately, not that you or Spencer are complaining. “Dad and I are gonna stay here for a few days so you and Spencer can go on a little impromptu trip.”

“Really?” You ask in surprise, turning to see Spencer’s big smile. Reaching back behind the counter, he pulls out a bag. “I already packed for you.”

Your mind races with the thought of what this trip might be, relaxing and comforting or the sexy kind. Leaning in, you kiss Charlotte on the cheek and make her promise, in her 15-month-old way to be a good girl for Grandma and Grandpa. “I love you sooooo much, Charlie. Daddy and I will be back in a couple days.”

Spencer plants a big kiss on the top of Charlotte’s head, which makes her smile and lights up your world. “Be a good little flower, okay?”

“Ooo-kay,” she replies. She’s got a whole little voice now! It’s amazing and you almost get emotional leaving her, but you know in the long run, having a break from parenthood to focus on you and Spencer as a couple is what’s best for all of you.

After giving your parents a hug and kiss goodbye, Spencer takes your hand and shrugs the duffel bag over his shoulder. As soon as the door is closed, you can’t help but ask. “So what kind of a vacation is this?”

“Remember that party we went to?”

“The sexy one?” You ask as your voice goes up an octave. It’s a good memory; just the mere thought fills you with warmth again.

“I think it’s time for another.”

—

Instead of going straight to the penthouse complex the party had taken place in last time, Spencer takes you to the hotel first, checking you in and insisting you take a nap because you are ‘going to need your rest.’

With a beautiful threat like that, it takes 20 minutes of anticipatory tossing and turning before you can fall asleep. When you wake almost an hour and a half later, you glance toward the armchair in between the bed and wall and see an outfit laid out for you. Draped over the back of the chair is a tight, rouched, pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and nude pumps. Heat floods through you. It’s normally not your kind of outfit, but knowing Spencer picked it out, means he has a picture in mind.

From behind, you hear his voice low and gravely. “You won’t be wearing any panties. I want you open for me from the second we walk in the door. And don’t worry, there’s a built-in bra in the dress.”

“When do we leave, Sir?” The stark difference between headstrong mom and wife and docile sob is apparent, but it’s you, two sides of the same coin. You truly believe one couldn’t exist without the other. “Do I have time to put on some makeup?”

“We leave in a half hour. And I packed your makeup. It’s not waterproof. I plan to mess it up anyway.”

—

Before you leave, Spencer ensures that your limits and wants haven’t changed. He also asks if you have the mental energy for a bit of degradation (you do). Him asking is what makes him, him. It’s what makes him a dominant worth kneeling before. “It’ll be a lot of the same people as last time,” Spencer says as you stride out of the elevator and down toward the penthouse. “This time though, it won’t be a ‘show’ per se, so much as we’ll have our own room, I will do as I please with your beautiful body and anyone that wants to come in and watch can. Like a revolving door for people to witness what a little slut you are for me.”

Biting your lip, you move to kiss the underside of his chin. Wetness begins to drip down your leg. “Only for you, Sir. Forever.”

Taking your place, you stand slightly behind him and watch as he raps at the door three times. Each knock sends a jolt through you, anticipation building. “Welcome back,” your host says when he opens the door. “Married since last we saw each other, right?”

Spencer nods and guides you inside. There’s already a ton of people milling around with drinks and food. From the sounds of it, at least a few people are already getting into things. And out of the corner of your eye, you spy Christina. Floating across the room to greet you, she bats her eyelashes at you. “Nice to see you both. Will I be seeing you here? Or are you just here to observe?”

“We’re here to play,” Spencer says, voice low.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his tone, soft yet forceful. After your host welcomes everyone to party, reminding you all to stay ‘safe, sane and consensual,’ the crowd disperses. Some individuals that you know for a fact aren’t in relationships, find each other and go off to have some fun. Other couples, like you and Spencer find empty rooms and prepare to provide the guests with an amazing show.

Once inside a room, Spencer focuses on you, ignoring the first few people that walk through the door. They’re familiar faces and although you can’t remember names, you’re almost positive they were viewers that last time you were here. “Ready?” He asks.

You nod.

“Word?”

“Red, Sir.”

Spencer pinches your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, responding with a condescending ‘good’ before addressing the growing audience. “Who here wants to see my wife’s amazing body? See how wet she already is?”

A few men have no problems grunting in approval, their hands floating over hardening cocks, the anticipation building. Without a word, Spencer grabs your arms roughly with both hands and turns you so that your ass is facing the crowd and you’re staring at the wall. Cool air quickly hits your heated pussy as he yanks the bottom of your tight, pink dress just above your ass. He places a finger on the middle of your back, so you pitch forward. He wants to show off what’s his and you’re more than happy to comply.

“See?” He asks them, directing their collective gaze toward your slick entrance. “She’s already soaking wet. Frankly, I think she’s been wet since I surprised her with this party this afternoon. Haven’t you, love?”

“Yes, Sir.” You remain still while he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m always wet for you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I love when you use me. I belong to you.”

“That’s right.” Reaching to your shoulder, he applies the slightest bit of pressure and allows you to stand up straight again. “Now, should we get the audience involved with a little poll?” His eyes glance up and down your body quickly and you’re pretty sure you know where he’s headed.

“I think so, Sir.”

“What does my little slut think I’m thinking? What do I want to ask them?”

“Whether I should keep my dress on and have you expose my breasts or take it off all together.”

Spencer smiles proudly and looks toward the crowd. “Show of hands. Dress off?” A few hands go up. “Dress on?” Most of the room votes for dress on, the image of Spencer so taken with you that he can’t even bother to undress you, you so blissed out and fucked that you don’t care, so long as he fucks you.

As soon as you have your answer, you lie back on the bed and put your hands above your head, your dominant hand clenching around the opposing wrist.

“Legs open,” he says firmly as he peels his jacket off and lays it neatly on a chair at his side, kicking his shoes off nearby, piling them not-as-neatly as his jacket. Even in control, he’s losing bits of it. “We want to put on a good show, right? Show everyone what a wet little slut you really are?”

You let out a breathy, “Yes, Sir,” in reply, already feeling the urge to touch your breasts, rake your fingers around your nipples, pinch them for the sweet bit of pain.

Once Spencer’s unbuttoned his shirt and stepped out of his pants, leaving him in just a shirt and boxers, he steps to the edge of the bed and wraps an arm around each of your legs, pulling your ass to the precipice. He thumbs your clit and you whimper, moving gently down into his hand, but he quickly pulls away, laughing at your dissatisfied whimpers.

Even in a room full of people, he’s fixed on you. That’s your superpower. Something no one else can do for him. “Your pussy is needy, Sir.”

“I can see that,” he replies. “You’re glistening already. I think I’ll actually invite someone up for a closer look.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest and you wait excitedly for Spencer to pick someone. His eyes fall to someone standing above where your head is. “Would you like a closer look?”

The man doesn’t reply, giving you a small smile as he rounds the other side of the bed and comes to stand a few feet from Spencer.

“Isn’t she soaked?”

“Disgustingly so,” the man says.

Spencer laughs and immediately brings his open palm down on your clit. “And that made her even wetter. Why is that, love?”

“Because I’m your slut, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Without dismissing the man, Spencer pulls his cock free from his boxers and lines himself up at your entrance, teasing you as your special viewer takes his former place on the opposite side of the bed.

As he pushes inside you, he takes a calf in each hand and pushes your legs back, leaving you open and raw for him. “Fuck, you take my cock so well, baby.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With each thrust he swells inside you, the friction so intense that you’re begging for him to let you come within minutes, but he refuses, insisting you stave off your orgasm unless you want to be punished in front of the crowd. You kind of do, but you want to make him proud more, so you bite your lip and try to push your mind in a different direction - anything to push away the growing feelings in your core.

For a minute, you think to focus on the faces in the crowd, but most of them are watching with rapt attention, their hungry and jealous gazes doing little to tone down your growing need. Each thrust of his hard cock fucks you open so beautifully, your juices sliding down your ass and onto the sheets below.

When you go to beg again, beg for sweet release, Spencer pinches your clit in between his fingers, ripping the words from you. It’s time to be quiet. Every pinch, every scrape of his fingers, every pointed thrust gets you closer and closer to where he wants you, fucked so senseless you can’t form words or thought, his name the only thing that’s able to fall from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cry as he pulls out and slaps your pussy with the head of his cock and his hand in quick succession.

Spencer’s gaze falls on Christina, at least you assume so. All you’re aware of is Spencer’s voice claiming that your mouth needs a distraction. Sauntering over, Christina lifts her dress, climbs onto the bed and straddles your face. She’s pink and perfect and wet and now you have a mission of your own.

Your tongue hungrily laps at her wetness and you laugh to yourself as you feel it drip down your chin. She grinds down onto your mouth, begging for you to fuck her with your tongue as Spencer pounds into your pussy without any thought.

As Spencer bottoms out, you cry into Christina’s wet cunt and tear rolls down your face. “Spencer, she’s actually crying she’s so well fucked,” Christina teases.

“Tell her she doesn’t get to come until she makes you come.”

You hear that and grasp onto Christina’s legs, pulling her pussy back to your mouth so you can eat her out like your life depends on it. It does right now. All you want is to come. Your entire body is burning with need. Spencer’s purposely slowing his movements, drawing out each sensation so that you can focus on what you need to do before you get your reward.

When Christina shakes above you, you smile, watching her as she casually removes herself from the bed and returns to her place in the crowd. “Christina, did she do a good job? Should I let her come?”

Whining, you buck down into Spencer’s cock and pray that Christina was satisfied. It sounded like it.

“I think you should fuck her so hard she forgets her own name.”

Spencer chuckles and reels back, bottoming out so hard that your eyes roll to the back of your head. Without saying a word, he flips you over so you’re face down on the bed before pushing back inside. At this angle, you feel even fuller. It feels like both seconds and hours before you’re crying out, no words, just noise as your mouth hangs open.

Once you’re able to focus again, you see people leaving the room and feel Spencer’s hands turn you back to face him. “You okay, love?”

“More than, Sir.” You smile.

—

In a haze, you’re able to get dressed and get back to the hotel. You curl into Spencer’s embrace. “Did you have fun?” He asks, the lightness in his voice already giving you an answer of your own.

Nodding, you tighten your grasp around his waist and kiss his chest. “Yes, Sir.”

—

The following day, the two of you wake up at your leisure and Spencer takes you out to breakfast. It’s leisurely. There’s coffee. He takes charge when it comes to ordering and paying the bill. It’s amazing. All you have to do is smile and bask in the afterglow of the previous night’s amazing time.

After a little bit of swimming at the hotel pool, a nap and a quick, late lunch, you head home to see your mother in Charlotte’s room, her eyes hooded and near to closing as she smiles down at her granddaughter. Your dad’s already passed out on the floor next to them. How Charlotte hasn’t woken up to tell Grandpa to stop snoring is astounding. “Have fun?” Your mom asks softly.

Nodding, you give her a hug and thank her for giving you and Spencer the time to breathe. It’s refreshing. Your dad stirs awake so you leave the room to let Charlotte sleep peacefully. “Thank you again, guys.”

“No problem.” Both your parents understand the importance of time outside of parenthood. Your mom cranes her head back toward Charlotte’s room. “You two plan on another one of those anytime soon? I can’t believe she’s 15 months already. It feels like she was born yesterday.”

“It really does, and mayyyybeeee.” After assuring them you’re not pregnant, you confide in them about your adoption journey thus far. “We haven’t heard anything yet. Still too early. But we’re looking into it.”

Your mom begins to tear up and even your dad gets his congratulations caught in his throat. “We’ll be praying for someone to pick you soon.”

“Thanks, dad. You okay to drive? Spencer or I can drive you home.”

“No, kiddo,” you dad replies, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m good.”

“Okay, text me when you get home.”

“We will.”

As they make their way down the stairs of the complex, you and Spencer slip into Charlotte’s room, sleepy smiles painting their way across your faces. “Refreshed?” Spencer asks. “Ready to really dive into adoption?”

“More than anything.”


	25. Chapter 25

Eighteen months must mean some kind of a growth spurt, because Charlotte is all over the apartment now. Any chance she gets, she follows you and Spencer around, knocking things over and pulling out plugs from walls just because she’s discovered she can. Not that there aren’t wonderful things to go along with the crazy, but she’s much more active now.

Between her growing into the tiny little human she is, work and finishing up adoption classes, you and Spencer haven’t had a ton of time for each other and it’s starting to wear on you both. On top of that, an expecting mother had chosen to meet with you and picked you for adoption only to back out two weeks later, which left you both feeling on edge. Every adoption agent says “don’t get attached,” but it’s practically an inevitability and having her back hit you hard.

But you plow forward. After miraculously getting Charlotte to bed, you and Spencer decide to snuggle on the couch. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants sitting snugly on his hips. Slipping one of his oversized t-shirts over your head you follow him outside and nestle yourself underneath his arm, resting your head against the broad expanse of his chest.

“Spence?”

He shudders and you look up to see him staring off into his own little world.

You call him again.

“Yea?”

“You okay?” You ask. “I just called your name and you got all spacey.”

“Sorry, just- this. It’s hard. I wanted that baby.”

Heat builds up behind your eyes. “Me too. I just keep telling myself that that baby wasn’t meant to be ours. Another one is.”

“I want Charlie to have a brother or sister.” This time when his mind began to wander, you could tell he was thinking of Charlie playing around with a younger sibling. “Sooner rather than later.”

“She will.” You place your hand against his chest and slowly begin to maneuver yourself into his lap, your knees coming to rest on either side of his legs. “Is there anything I can help you with in the meantime?” His smirk mirrors your own as his hands slip up your thighs. “Maybe we can try something we haven’t before.” You trail off and watch him think it over. There isn’t a whole lot that you haven’t tried that you still want to, but then it clicks.

You lean into him and grind ever so softly against his straining erection, whimpering when his fingers skirt the edge of your panties and slip around the curves of your ass. One hand slides up the small of your back as he kisses you, his teeth tugging gently on your bottom lip. “Let’s go inside. I have an idea.”

Chuckling, you follow behind him, jump on the bed and make quick work of your panties, throwing them to the side just as Spencer finds what he’s looking for - the dildo you attached to the wall a while ago. “Wouldn’t want my little girl to go without an empty hole now would we?”

“No, Sir.” Two fingers swipe against your slick entrance, pushing inside without any resistance. “Want a taste?”

Spencer moves faster than you’ve ever seen him before. It makes you laugh so loud you’re afraid you’ll wake Charlotte. “Don’t make me scream. We don’t wanna wake her.”

“That’s on you not to be noisy,” he teased, wrapping his hands around your thighs to bring your pussy toward his eager, hungry mouth. “Rest your legs on my shoulders.”

In this position, your legs are wrapped fairly tightly around his head and although it’s ridiculous you’re always afraid of suffocating him. But in his words, “if that’s how I die so be it.” Before you can say anything, he licks all the way from your ass to your clit, flicking his tongue against it to send you bucking into his mouth. “Let go, if I die here. I die here. Just don’t tell anyone how I went,” he laughs.

Your snort turns into a whine as his thumb and forefinger and spread your pussy open for him. In preparation, you reach into the nightstand and grab the lube, laying it down near your ass.

He groans into you. “Someone’s eager.”

“Need all my little holes filled.” Spencer’s pupils blow wide and it’s all the high you need. “Wanna fuck my ass, Sir?”

Without a word, he grabs your hand and pulls it down to your pussy, motioning for you to touch yourself while he reaches for the lube. He applies a generous amount in his hands and begins massaging around the tight ring of muscle. You’ve prepared for this with other instruments. Especially your favorite plug. But this is the first time you’ll be doing it without toys. As his other hand strokes up and down his cock, he sees you tense. “What’s our word?”

“Red, Sir.”

“I’ll go slow.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

When he nudges the head of his cock against your ass you grab the sheets and still yourself. For a moment, there’s pressure, and then the slightest hint of pain, but it’s nothing you can’t handle or haven’t handled before. And then he’s inside you, slow and gentle thrusts allowing further and further in each time.

Reaching back, you grab the headboard and open your eyes, watching as Spencer’s mouth drops open. “Fuck, your ass is so tight.” Without looking, he reaches for the dildo and slips it between you. “Once I slip this inside you, you’ll be even tighter. I might lose my mind.”

“But what a way to go, right?”

You whimper as the dildo slips inside you, building up the pressure you feel. The mixture of pleasure and pain is eye-watering. Spencer teases you - your dripping pussy providing more lube as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“So tight, Sir. I-I-” The words won’t form as he thrusts again, almost to the hilt this time. “Just…fuck my ass. Please. I need it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a slut that needs to have my holes filled, Sir.” You push up with your palms and use it as leverage to fuck yourself onto him. “Feels so big. So tight.”

Spencer grunts, watching himself slide in and out of you before bending down to kiss you. With his body almost flush against yours and his cock in your ass, his body presses the dildo deeper and deeper inside your sodden pussy. “God, Y/N, you’re so tight,” he breathes against your neck.

Each movement made your body tighten, coil in anticipation of your nearing release. His fingers scraped up and down your arms and across your chest and stomach, leaving no part of you untouched. “Not gonna last,” he breathes.

“Come for me, Sir. Please. Fuck me harder.”

Spencer reaches up with one hand and clasps yours, white-knuckling the headboard with the other as he picks up speed. Mouth agape, you whine and beg him over and over again to come for you. When he finally cries out and shudders above you, you feel your body seize and your eyes roll back in ecstasy. “Fuck!”

His lips crash into yours, silencing your cries as he slowly pumps into your ass. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he laughs, carefully pulling out and turning to grab a towel. With his free hand, he wipes the hair out of his eyes and turns to see your cheeks flushed red. “You okay?”

“More than. That was. Mmm. Yea. I could put that into the rotation if you know what I mean. Little messy though.”

Pulling you close by the small of your back, he kisses down the side of your neck. “How about we go shower it off? Get all sudsy.”

“Fantastic idea. We’ll only do this when Charlie’s asleep.”

With a few strides of his long legs, he gets up and picks you up bridal style to carry you to the shower. In the bathroom, a lightbulb goes off in his head. “Wait, maybe we can do this in the shower! Two for one?”

“Sexy times and no mess?” You exclaim. “You’re such a genius.”

He snorts. “I know.”


	26. Chapter 26

Now she wants all the control. It feels like you and Spencer are doing twice the laundry because she wants to feed herself, but she’s a total mess. At first, the mess bothered Spencer - he likes his things neat and tidy and in the right place - but eventually he just let it go and even started joining in messy eating just for the fun of it.

Charlotte even wants to pick her own clothes and help herself get dressed, which is difficult when you’re in a rush and just need her to put her legs in the leg holes and fucking move, but you let her do as much as she can anyway. You want to foster an independent little girl who’ll ask for help when she needs it. Thankfully, today is a slow day. It’s a Saturday and your only plans are to go get her some new clothes because she’s growing out of her 18-month clothes already.

When Spencer brings her outside, you hide your laugh. She’s chosen a pair of bright blue sweatpants and an orange shirt with pink shoes and a purple hat. “Ready to go, Charlie?”

You and Spencer gulp down the rest of your morning coffees, which are now cold and grab a banana for the trip to the store. “You want one?” Spencer asks her.

“Nanner!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs, scooping her into his arms. “Away we go!”

—-

In the store, Charlotte takes the lead, bringing you in all different directions. Sometimes it’s toys. Sometimes it’s bikes. Sometimes it’s food. Eventually, after saying hello to everyone she passes with a tiny little wave, you find yourselves in the clothing sections. First, she drifts toward the ‘boys’ section and grabs a shirt with Mario and Yoshi on it because ‘dino,’ before quickly grabbing a shirt with Captain America’s shield on it, probably because she recognizes the one you wear at home.

After sauntering through the boys’ section and trying (with varying degrees of success) to instill in her that she couldn’t buy everything in the store, Spencer runs with her to the girls’ section, careening the shopping cart in and out of aisles like a madman. But she’s loving it, so you just shout at them to be careful, stopping long the way to get her a new pair of sneakers and a pair of slippers that look a lot like Spencer’s that she loves to try and steal.

When you finally catch up, you see Spencer holding up two different dresses, telling her to pick one. “I figure every two things she picks up she can choose one.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. “Probably more comprehensible for a 20-month-old to choose between two things rather than ‘you can’t have everything.’”

“Exactly.”

With Spencer’s method, she makes a few choices of her own - a rainbow pastel dress, light green sweatpants, a pink sweatshirt and a sparkly green dress with Ariel on it - and then chooses between some outfits that you and Spencer pick out. You make it a game to see which one of you can put together the best outfit, best in this case meaning Charlotte picks it over the other. Spencer wins twice and you win once. Then Spencer sticks his tongue out.

“Is she the 20-month-old or are you?” You laugh.

He sing-songs that he won as he carts her out of the aisle and toward the food section for the few staples you need to pick up. Charlotte asks for Daddy to ‘race’ again, and Spencer’s more than happy to oblige, using a few empty aisles to just run the cart in circles for a few minutes while you answer your phone.

Minnie’s warm voice floats over you. “Hello, dear. How are you and Spencer doing?”

“We’re doing okay. Just taking Charlotte for some new clothes.”

“Well, I have some news for you. You’ve been chosen again.”

“Really?” Your hearts races a mile a minute as you flag Spencer down and beckon him to come over. “Who is she? How far along is she?”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, his breath hitching in his throat. You’re both afraid of getting your hopes up again, but you also can’t help the excitement. Charlotte’s too busy with a sparkly heart wand she found to care, plus you and Spencer made an agreement not to say anything until you were reasonably sure your birth mother was in this for the long haul.

“Well, she’s 19. She and her boyfriend are both in agreement on this and they both love your profile. They’re on their way to prestigious universities and they don’t think they can be great parents and great students at the same time. You and Spencer could meet them both. She’s been with us since she found out at just five weeks. She’s 10 weeks along now. But there’s a catch.” Her voice trails off and your heart sinks and rises in quick succession. You can hear her smile.

“What’s the catch?” You ask.

Spencer quirks an eyebrow and he’s white-knuckling the handle of the shopping cart.

“She’s having twins. And she insists they be adopted together.”

“Twins?!”

The mixture of excitement and undeniable fear makes you want to vomit. Two at once? “Now, I know this is a big commitment. Two at once is no joke, but I wanted to let you know so that you and Spencer could talk it over. Do you think it’s something you’re interested in?”

You spoke softly, trying to still the quiver in your voice. “I think so. Spence and I need to talk things over. We can call you back in a couple of days?”

“Absolutely. If you have any questions let me know.”

A quick goodbye and she disconnects the call, leaving you to stare in amazement at your husband. “Twins. Spence, two of them? Can we do that?”

“Why not?” His smile is a mile wide. As he tousles Charlotte’s hair, tears well in his eyes. “I mean there would be an increased financial burden, but I think we could handle it, especially with the flexibility in my work schedule. I could add online classes too. I’m sure your parents could help us those first few months. And I know Penelope and Luke, Emily, JJ and Will, they’d all help us with babysitting.”

“Are we gonna have twins?” You ask, a sob bubbling up from your toes.

Spencer pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “I think we’re having twins.”


	27. Chapter 27

The birth parents, Ai Campbell and Kyle Richardson, could meet you and Spencer and decide that they didn’t like you as much as they thought, so instead of telling your parents or Diana about the possible new babies, BABIES, you just ask your parents to babysit Charlotte while you have a date day.

Once Charlie’s out the door with your parents you start to get shaky, your legs barely able to hold up your weight. Spencer wraps you in his arms. “In through your nose and out through your mouth. We can do this.”

“What if they don’t like us?” You ask as loudly as your voice can muster. You feel so small, so scared. Your hopes are already up.

Spencer takes a deep breath, clearly a little on edge himself and chuckles. “Well, one, they’d be wrong. We’re amazing. And two, like you said before, it’s either meant to be or it’s not, but we’ll get through it.”

“I want these babies, Spence.”

Reaching into your bag, he pulls out your hairbrush. “We have a few minutes before we have to go. Turn around and close your eyes.”

His instructions pull you away from your thoughts for a moment so you turn around and do as he says, smiling softly when he pulls the brush through your hair. “This always relaxes you.”

“It does.” Nothing puts you at ease more than having your hair brushed.

Minutes flow into hours, at least your body believes it. When you’re finally peaceful, Spencer taps three times on your shoulder and whispers that it’s time to go. As his hand slips into yours, you swallow back your fear and hope for the best.

—

Cradle of Hope practically crackles with electricity. The moment is now. On the way over, Minnie called to let you know that Ai and Kyle were there a little early and excited to meet you both.

Spencer parks the car and comes to your side to open the door, taking your hands in his. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.” He repeats himself two more times before asking if you’re ready to do this.

You breathe calmly. “Let’s go.”

Inside, Minnie ushers you in and preps you both that way Spencer had prepped you. She just tells you to be yourselves. “Because if they fall in love with who you are, the people right in front of them, you’ll probably get chosen. It’s when people are closed off that these kinds of meetings don’t go well.

After a quick introduction via Minnie, she leaves the four of you alone. Ai is barely showing, but she has her hand on her stomach anyway, clearly protective. Just as you are, she’s a little nervous, but Kyle and Spencer take the lead and introduce themselves. “How are you?” Spencer asks. “Ai, how are you feeling?”

“A little morning sickness,” she replies. “But nothing too horrible just yet.” Sitting down on the couch, she cuddles into Kyle, clearly they’re on the same page about this and they love each other. In terms of birth parents, if they choose you, you couldn’t be luckier. “Minnie just said that we should get to know each other. We’ve read your file, but maybe you could tell us a little bit about your lives.”

Spencer gives your hand a squeeze. Your nervous energy is now his, so you tell Ai and Kyle all about how you met at a bar and fell hard and fast for Spencer. He smiles at your words and pulls you close. “We’ve been married for a couple years now and have a beautiful little girl named Charlotte Magnolia. We call her Charlie for the most part. Occasionally Maggie and Spencer calls her little flower.”

“She is,” Spencer continues. “I used to work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit as a profiler. After nearly 20 years with the Bureau, I decided to start teaching and consulting on occasion so I could be home with Y/N. Best decision I ever made after asking her out and asking her to marry me.”

“Stop, you guys are so cute,” Ai laughs. “Okay, so Kyle and I are really intent on these babies being adopted together. We want them to be wanted by whoever adopts them. Not just they’ll take two because they don’t want to lose the opportunity for one, if you know what I mean?”

“I do,” you reply. “I would be lying if I said that taking on two babies at once didn’t scare the ever-living shit out of me-”

“Me too.” Spencer nods vigorously.

Laughing, you continue. “But we want them both. Having them will complete the family we’ve always wanted.”

Kyle leans forward and opens his mouth, hesitant at first. “Can I ask why you want to adopt when you do have a biological child? Do you think you’ll feel any differently about her as opposed to them.”

Spencer responds immediately, ensuring them that children are children and if they choose you, those babies will be your children in all ways but one.

“As for why adoption, I’ve always wanted to adopt. And although I love the result of my pregnancy, the pregnancy itself was taxing on my body and to be truthful it’s not something I want to put my body through again.”

“With all this morning sickness, I feel you.” Ai takes a sip of water and pulls Kyle back into the couch so she can lean on him. Nearly an hour passes as you trade stories. Almost nothing about the adoption itself, just random stories that allow you to get a feel for who everyone is as people. “Do you have any questions for us?”

Spencer wrings his hands together and leans up, having slouched into the couch over the course of the last hour. “We do. Umm, what made you pick us to meet out of all the files you read?”

“We both like the fact that you already have a baby.” Ai rubs her stomach, a somewhat sad smile crawling across her lips. “I guess it gives us the assurance that you’d be good parents, because you already are. We also liked your FBI background, Spencer. We feel like they’d be safe, which is all we want. Safe and happy and-”

Without meaning to, Kyle cuts her off. “Sorry, babe. We really liked the way you spoke about each other. Kind of reminded us of us. We’ve been together since high school. And although we would like these babies, we don’t feel as if we can give them the life they deserve while still working to cement our own lives.” The last few words catch in his throat and Ai begins to hold back tears.

“How involved would you want to be post-adoption?” You ask shakily. You feel for them. Though you want these babies, you feel awful that they do too and just aren’t in a place to provide for them. “Do you want updates?”

“We’d definitely love updates,” Kyle says, squeezing Ai’s hand. “As often as you would be comfortable. Possibly visits, again if that would be okay with you. But those don’t have to be as often. Probably couldn’t be, especially while in college. Is that something you’d both be okay with?”

Nodding, you reach across the table separating the two couches and wrap your arms around Ai’s neck. She’s full on crying now. You don’t know what else to say, so you tell her it’s going to be okay and no matter what happens things are going to work out. “We definitely want them to know that they’re lucky enough to have four parents that love them.”

Kyle pulls Ai in for a hug and soon enough you’re all at least a little bit teary eyed. There seem to be a few whispers between them before he responds. “Ai, yea?”

She nods.

“We choose you. We want you guys.”

Your quiet stream of tears becomes a raging waterfall. “Thank you,” You cry. “We promise they’ll never doubt how much they’re loved.”

—

Once it truly settles in that you’ve been chosen the panic starts to settle in. Less than a year from now, your little family of three will become a family of five. Two newborns at once? Twice as many bills? Three children under the age of three? It’s both exciting and vomit-inducing. Obviously, it’s what you and Spencer both want, but you will have to go through that period of uncertainty again, where you question every decision you make as a parent and a human being.

For nearly a month, you and Spencer busy yourselves with reconfiguring the apartment to accommodate two babies. There’s a small office across the apartment where you move Charlotte, so that her old bedroom, the larger room, can hold two cribs. In the midst of trying to put everything together you have a little bit of a breakdown about how cluttered everything feels, which leads to you and Spencer discussing the possibility of a move into the suburbs once the babies are ready to transfer into big kid beds.

So much is happening at once and despite wanting to take your time with each other, quickies in the morning become the norm. Eventually, you’ll both settle into the building anticipation and get back to your preferred sexual routines, but neither of you can focus at the moment and with all the preparations and nervousness you’re too tired to do anything but snuggle.

“Should we tell Charlie about the babies?” You ask, basking in the afterglow for a brief moment before pushing yourself up. “I mean I know Ai and Kyle could still back out, but I have a good feeling.”

“And we don’t want to leave her blindsided anway,” Spencer says, pulling on his flannel pajama pants. “How about over breakfast?”

In agreement, you grab Charlie from her room and let her pick an outfit before bringing her out to the table, where Spencer already has some eggs ready for her. “Charlie, Mommy and Daddy have something special to tell you,” Spencer starts, his voice constricting. Somehow, through all the unsubs he talked down and all the times you and he have done everything under the sun, he finds himself at a loss for words in front of your barely two year old.

Crouching down, you meet her at her level and hold her little hand. “There’s a mommy out there, kind of like me, who has two babies in her belly. But she can’t take care of them, so she asked Daddy and I to take care of them. You’re going to be a big sister.”

Try reading a 21-month-old. It’s hard. Even Spencer looks baffled, though it looks like the gears in Charlie’s sweet little head are turning. “Babies?” She asks pointing to your stomach.

“Not my belly, baby. They’re in another lady’s belly and she needs help so the babies are going to come here and be your little brothers or sisters.”

A small smile forms on her face. “I help?”

“You can absolutely help with the babies!” You say excitedly, thankful that her reaction wasn’t worse or even non-existent. “You’re going to be a great big sister.”

Without a word, she jumps off her seat at the table and runs into her room only to come out moments later with a baby doll in hand. “I help.”

Bending down, you kiss the top of her head and pick her up, sandwiching her between yourself and Spencer. “Best big sister ever,” he whispers.


	28. Chapter 28

All of the people in the doctor’s office are quietly confused about the four people entering the waiting room together, but neither you nor Spencer can muster up the energy to care. Today, you’ll know if the babies are healthy, hear their heartbeats, and possibly even find out whether you’re having boys or girls or one of each.

As you make your way up to the front desk, you link your arm in Ai’s. She’s happy and excited and nervous, but also a little sad, though she doesn’t confide that in you. You can just see it in her eyes; it’s all bittersweet. “Ai Campbell,” she says softly. “My boyfriend, Kyle, and the adoptive parents, Spencer and Y/N Reid will be coming in with me. That’s okay, right? We discussed it on the phone a few days ago.”

The woman reiterates that it’s fine, “as long as they all remain out of the doctor’s way,” which is perfectly fine with you. All you want to do is make sure they’re healthy and that Ai is as comfortable as she can be considering she’s going to be carrying two full grown babies soon.

Inside the office, Ai slips onto the table and lifts her shirt. She’s a small woman so her bump is already fairly visible despite being just over 3 months along.

Kyle sits at Ai’s side, occasionally giving her hand a squeeze. Though they both agree that giving their children up for adoption is what’s best for all of them in the long run, you can all see that this is especially difficult for Ai; they’re growing in her belly. You’d never have been able to give up Charlotte. All you can do is make it as easy on her as possible.

Just as Kyle presses a kiss to Ai’s temple, the doctor comes in and greets you all. He’s been made aware of your situation by her nurses and Ai. “How are you feeling, Ai?”

“A little morning sickness, and I can tell my back is going to kill me soon, but for now I’m okay.”

As the doctor explains that everything she’s feeling is normal (and giving her a heads up about what’s to come), she squirts some of the ultrasound jelly on her stomach, gently passing the wand over her. One pass. Two. Then she wiggles it around and you see two tiny peanuts - actually they’re about the size of nectarines - on the screen and you start to sob, cradling your head in Spencer’s shoulder. He can’t help but smile, a tear falling down his cheek as he and Ai share a moment. You’re both eternally grateful for the opportunity they’re giving you. “So what are we having?” Ai asks, making the effort to smile when she looks at you both. “We all want to know, right?”

You, Spencer and Kyle nod in agreement and wait with baited breath for the doctor to make the announcement. “Well, let me see…given that it’s twins there is a greater chance of us being wrong-”

“But with a single baby at 14 weeks you can tell with between 90 and 96 percent accuracy so-sorry, I’ll shut up.” Spencer bites his lip and stifles a laugh. He’s full of nervous energy and when he’s nervous the stats start flying. Thankfully, it makes Ai laugh, which allows Kyle to breathe a bit too.

The doctor finally settles the wand in place. “It looks like you’re having…one of each,” she says softly. Immediately, you and Ai burst into tears. You bend down to give her a hug, not giving a crap if you get any of the jelly on your clothes.

“Looks like you’re having a boy and a girl,” Ai says. The lightness in her voice makes her happiness for you apparent, despite how she might be feeling herself.

Pressing a kiss to her head, you wipe her tears away with the pads of your thumbs. “We all are.”

—

With the excitement of two babies on the horizon and a toddler at home, Spencer and yourself fall once again into the most predictable of routines. Unlike with Charlotte however, you aren’t feeling physically gross, so you’re still able to fit in quickies at night and random morning showers together. Without the physical and mental weight of an actual pregnancy, plus this being your second (and third) baby, you’re feeling more confident, which Spencer recognizes. In moments where you question whether or not you should’ve tried for another baby naturally, he reminds you of how you’re feeling. Every one of your roles - wife, mother, sub - you know who you are within them now.

Quickly enough, Ai is five months along. The two of you text every single day, and your boys are in a group text thread with you as well. She’s still not rid of morning sickness, but it’s lessening.

“The back pain though,” she says, her voice resounding through the apartment through the laptop during one of your weekend video chats, “The back pain is brutal. My doctor says I should probably be on bedrest in a month or two. Everyone at work is really helpful though. I’m allowed to sit all the time, which I do, because now I can’t see my feet either. But they’re there, because they hurt like hell.”

Her frankness makes you and Spencer snort. You remember not being able to see your feet at the end of your pregnancy. It was brutal. Thankfully, Charlotte, who’s playing with her baby doll across the room, is super cute and totally worth it. “What about food? Are you able to eat? Any smells turning you off? Any cravings?”

“Smelling coffee makes me want to vomit. Which sucks because I love coffee. Even though I couldn’t drink anything but one cup of decaf,” she says, rambling. You don’t want to laugh, but you can’t help it. The feelings are so real. “I also hate that I can’t have a glass of wine every now and then, not that I do,” she adds quickly.

Spencer laughs when Ai meets his gaze through the screen. “You’re growing two babies, heading off to college and working your ass off, I’m not about to turn you in for a tiny bit of underage drinking.”

“Thanks,” she laughs. “I just miss relaxing with a glass of wine.”

“I feel you. Anything you’re craving?”

“Cliche as it is, pickles. Kyle went out last week at 2 am to grab me a jar. Also breakfast foods. And chocolate. Ooohh, chocolate.” As if on cue, Kyle appears at the side of the screen with a square of Ghirardelli chocolate for the woman he loves. “You do love me.”

Stuffing the chocolate in her mouth, she sighs and closes her eyes, probably feeling a moment’s contentment amidst a sea of morning sickness, back pain and giant feet. “Are you able to come over for dinner sometime soon? Spencer and I will cook breakfast for dinner. Bacon and eggs and-”

“Hash browns?” She asks, her smile wide and pleading.

“Absolutely. What’s your favorite chocolate or candy bar? I’ll make sure we have one of those on tap for you too.”

“Almond Joy! You’re the best.” By the end of the video chat, you have plans for a few weeks later.

—

Three weeks later, Ai and Kyle knock at the door just five minutes after 6. Ai looks like she’s about to pop. “Everything smells delicious,” Kyle says, his arm linked in Ai’s as he helps her waddle to the table. “Bacon is one of God’s greatest works.”

“I have to agree,” Spencer laughs.

Charlotte runs into his arms and he introduces her to Ai and Kyle. You’ve shown her pictures of them and she’s seen them on video calls, but never in person. Smiling at Ai, she points to her stomach. “Babies?”

“Yes, my little flower,” Spencer coos. “Your brother and sister are in there. Want to sit next to Ai for dinner?”

“Breffast,” she replies. She knows it’s breakfast food. Ai is a natural with her and you know when the two of them are ready to be parents they’ll make wonderful ones.

At the stove, you finish up the rest of the food and turn the stove off while Spencer pulls out plates and utensils. “Want to help Daddy make a plate of food for Ai? And Kyle?” Charlotte is eager to help. She’s a natural helper. Even though you aren’t pregnant you feel like you could cry. She’s going to be such a wonderful big sister.

All of you eat your weight in eggs and bacon and hash browns. Except Charlotte. She tries to but she’s still a messy eater so most of it ends up on the table or the floor. After dinner, your little angel climbs into Spencer’s lap and falls asleep against his chest. “Excuse me,” he whispers. “I’m just going to go put her in bed.”

It’s nearly 15 minutes before Spencer leaves Charlotte’s room with the soft thud of her bedroom door. “Sorry, I needed to read her the book with the rainbow fish three times before she would fall asleep.” Laughing, he sits down at your side and gives your hand a squeeze. Before Ai and Kyle came over, you’d discussed this, but you didn’t want to start without him. “We have something we wanted to ask you,” he said softly, careful to keep his voice down so as to not wake Charlotte. He glanced at you and let you take over.

Your voice was shaky. This was important to you. And you hoped it would be to them too. “We got to talking and we- well we realize how hard this is for you-”

“It’s necessary,” Ai interrupts. Her eyes spoke the truth but the pain sat vividly behind the facade.

“We know,” Spencer replies. “But we realize this isn’t an easy decision. We want you to know that you always have a place in their lives.”

“That’s why,” you start again after clearing your throat, “we wanted to ask if you would want to give us their middle names. Maybe family names. Something that’s special to you.”

Tears gathered at the corners of both their eyes before Ai completely broke down. “Really? I mean, we never thought- it would mean the world to-” she clutched her hand to her mouth to stem the sobs that flowed from her mouth. “My father’s given name is Xing. It means star or spark. Do you know what his first name is going to be?”

Spencer chuckled. “We still haven’t settled on one. Y/N wants Spencer Jr., but I’m not so keen on that. We both like Noah and Blake. Either way, his middle name will be Xing.”

“For the girl, we’re tossing between Morgan and Diana.”

Kyle began to chuckle, the tears finally flowing. “How about both? My mother’s name is Diana.”

“Mine too,” Spencer says. “Morgan Diana. For both of us.”

Kyle smiles. “For all of us.”


	29. Chapter 29

After what feels like an eternity (but is actually only a couple of days), you settle on your babies’ names: Morgan Diana and Blake Xing. Charlotte’s new room is all set up and you’re able to get started on the nursery for the babies. Well, adding to it. The Winnie the Pooh theme is something you still love and want to stick with, but you need double the crib space and double the dresser space, so as the weeks go by you add to their wardrobes with the help of family and friends.

Between Spence’s teaching, your job, parenting a toddler and getting ready to bring in not one, but two newborns, life takes on a well- life all its own. Through it all, Spence manages to keep you grounded, not always through sex, though you’ve been more than willing to be ‘at his disposal’ amidst the craziness. Aside from sex, he picks your outfits out every day, even down to what makeup you wear. He plans your weekly dates, down to finding friends and family to babysit Charlotte to carefully choosing where you’ll go and what you’ll do. He insists that you spend five minutes a day cuddling in bed just so you have time to breath.

You wonder whether he’s been able to breathe.

How Charlotte’s more than two years old now is beyond you. The time has gone by in such a way that you’ve been climbing up a mountain and sliding down it simultaneously, but after she’s in bed one night, just a few short weeks before the twins are supposed to arrive, you ask him how he’s feeling.

“What?” Spencer asks, a little taken off guard.

Grasping his hand, you maneuver yourself so you’re sitting in his lap facing him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. Are you okay?”

Spencer closes his eyes and leans forward pressing the most chaste of kisses on your lips. “I’m a little overwhelmed. Nervous as all hell about parenting three kids under the age of three in less than a month. But I’m just focusing all that energy on you.” His hand slides up the soft cotton tank you’re wearing to bed.

Coasting your fingertips along his torso and underneath his chin, you tip his head up so his gaze meets yours. “Do you need to, or want to let go for a night?”

He allows his resolve to slip away for a moment. “Yea,” he whispers, lips full below his hooded gaze. “I think I’d like that.”

Smiling, you trail your lips along the side of his neck and wash your tongue over his pulse point, relishing in the sign that escapes him. It’s so rare that you’re the one in control, and you do prefer it that way, but it makes these moments even more heady that usual in an entirely different way. “Remember a while back, when we talked about me pegging you?”

By the glint in his eye you can tell he remembers and he’s willing, but you ask anyway. “Be gentle with me,” he chuckles softly.

“Always. What’s our word?”

Your whisper is featherlight, as is his reply.

Watching in awe as his control slips into your hands, you instruct him to undress and get on all fours while you go digging for some toys. Months back you’d bought a smaller strap-on in the event you got to do this. You weren’t about to use the kind he’s used on you. That’s thicker and a little intimidating for someone who’s never done this before. Instead, you pull out a thinner, short strap-on and a bottle of lube, throwing both on the bed behind Spencer’s cute little ass. He’s trying to steady his breathing. He’s definitely nervous, but he stays where he is. It’s one of the few times in your relationships he’s more than willing to flip the script.

“Relax, Spence. I’ve done my research.”

He chuckles and starts to relax as you strip and crawl onto the mattress behind him. Slipping the strap-on around your waist, you smile to yourself. Wielding the power on occasion is pretty fun.

In preparation for whenever this moment came around, you’ve been keeping your nails short. You squirt some lube into your palm and slicken one finger specifically. Doing this with your hands first is not really ideal, but you’re not about to start him off with a strap-on.

“I’m gonna start with a couple fingers first. You tell me when you’re ready for more.”

He doesn’t respond out loud. He just nods his head, but you allow it, pressing the tip of your pointer finger against his ass. You motion slowly, adding lube when necessary and suddenly slip past the tight ring. “Oh.” Spencer says. “That’s, um, wow.”

“Good wow?”

“Good wow.”

Watching how he reacts, you move your finger back and forth, taking in how his breath heaves and his balls tighten in anticipation. As soft moans leave him, his front half folding down into the bed, you introduce your second finger and chuckle to yourself when his eyes widen. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to like this,” he says, swallowing thickly. “But I do. I really do.”

As you continue to move, hooking your finger randomly to see what he likes and what he doesn’t, you keep him talking. When he’s talking, at least with you, he’s much more relaxed. You ask him what he feels, where he enjoys the pressure. The right side gets him more than the left and the deeper the better. “Do you think you’re ready for more? It’s okay if you aren’t,” you add quickly.

His face is flushed red. So rare for him in this capacity. You love it.

“Yea, I think I am.”

“Good boy.”

While you lube up the strap-on with one hand, you rake your fingers down his back and across his ass. Pinkish marks appear a second in the wake of your fingers and Spencer hisses when you scratch across his ass.

Just as before, you slowly press the tip of the strap on against him, but there isn’t as much resistance as before. Still, you make sure to take it slow, helping him to relax by bending over him to reach around and grab his cock, stroking softly until you’ve eased in. “How’s that feel, love?”

He swallows hard before he’s able to respond. “Full.”

You giggle because you can tell. Even the strap-on isn’t a part of you, you can feel it move as he tightens around it. “You okay if I move?”

“Yes,” he says assuredly.

With all the grace you can muster (which admittedly isn’t much), you begin to thrust and revel in the way he groans. Pivoting to the right, you feel him tremble. Underneath the strap-on, you can tell how wet you are. Even though physically there isn’t much stimulation, Spencer’s reactions leave your breaths heavy and your movements slightly erratic at best. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that underneath you, Spencer is huffing and groaning. His body is slick with sweat. His tongue keeps coming out to wash over his bottom lip. His eyes are fluttering closed.

For the first time in a long time, he’s letting go - and watching that happen - that’s what’s getting to you.

“Fuck, Y/N, I-”

“Shh,” you whisper. “I’ve got you.” As you move, your thrusts and rolls become slightly more practiced, allowing you to return to the gentle strokes you were giving his cock before. With each thrust, you stroke your hand down the length and him and rub circles on the head of his cock with your finger.

Spencer starts bucking into your hand, a string of expletives leaving his mouth as he begs you for release. But you don’t give it to him. Not yet. He wanted to lose himself for a bit so you’re going to make it happen. “Not yet, Spence. Almost. I promise.”

You start to lose control yourself, simultaneously wanting to watch him unravel and keep on a string for as long as possible. When you finally can’t take it anymore, you scratch your teeth along his back and coax him into letting go. “It’s okay, Spence. Come for me. Let go.”

With your permission, his eyes shoot open and his body takes a hold of itself like it barely has any connection to his brain. He thrusts down into your hand and back into you at the same time, groaning as he does so. Each one long and drawn out. It’s like every buck and wave of his lithe form is his body’s way of giving his mind permission to let go.

“Oh, fuck!” He grits his teeth as he explodes into your hand and onto his stomach.

Careful not to hurt him, you ease out and undo the ties around your waist so you can toss it aside until later. His shockwaves subside and you collapse at his side. “How’re you feeling, Sir?”

He’s still a little shaky, buck naked and face down in the sheets, but he smiles and pulls you to his side. “Good. Really good. I mean, wow. Didn’t expect to like it that much.”

“Me either.”

“Yea?”

“Yea, I mean I didn’t orgasm or anything but just watching you lose it and knowing I was the cause. Fuck, that was just as good.”

“Welcome to my world, babe.” He waits a moment, settling himself into the sheets. “Can we just pass out here? I’ll help you clean up in the morning.”

“Yea,” you laugh, pulling at the thin sheet sitting on top of the fitted sheet. “Might wanna toss this to the side though. Don’t wanna get crusty.”

Spencer laughs out loud. “Sex is gross.”

“Yea it is.”

“Good thing it’s fun.”

—

In the following days, you catch up with Ai and Kyle; she tells you that none of her shirts fit anymore so she’s flashing midriff like a 90s popstar. And she’s in a hell of a lot of pain considering her center of gravity is royally fucked with two full grown babies walking around in there. But otherwise she’s okay.

“I just can’t wait to get these babies out of me,” she laughs. “I want to meet them. I want you to meet them. I’m just-

“Ai, you okay?”

“My water just broke.”

“Spence, it’s baby time!”


	30. Chapter 30

Morgan Diana Reid and Blake Xing Reid enter the world at 7:37 and 7:41 AM respectively. Morgan is five and a half pounds exactly and 18 inches long. Blake is 18 inches and clocks in at just over five pounds. They’re beautiful. Perfect. They have Ai’s full head of hair and Kyle’s nose and mouth. 

Ai is a champion. She had them both naturally (though you still contend there’s nothing natural about a bowling ball popping out of a vagina). Shortly after they were born, she passed out from exhaustion and slept for nearly 13 hours, which meant you and Spencer were thrown into the fire right from the frying pan. Honestly, it all goes by too fast to truly enjoy, but you know you’ll remember those little moments, just watching as Morgan opens her eyes or Blake moves his fingers.

Before you leave the hospital with them after about five days, you allow Ai time alone with them. It breaks your heart to hear her sobbing on the other side of the door. “Mommy and Daddy couldn’t give you the life you deserve right now, but we’ll always love you.” When you hear that you stifle a choked sob into Spencer’s chest and subsequently promise Ai and Kyle that they’ll always have a place in your family.

And then the insanity begins.

You thought it was hard with Charlotte.

Now there’s two.

TWO.

And Charlotte.

Sleep is non-existent. Maybe an hour at a time at the most. You cry about as often as Morgan and Blake do, which is a whole hell of a lot. Even Spencer breaks every now and then. But they grow so fast. Almost too fast if you’re being honest. Their cheeks get chubbier. They move more. Limbs flying as fast as a cheetah despite being about 30 times as helpless.

Sex? Even more non-existent than sleep.

It’s harder because everything is doubled, but you also have more of an inkling when things go wrong, when they’re sick, when things need to be done. Instead of wondering what each kind of sound means, you know, and you can react accordingly, so you don’t feel as much of a fish out of water as you did last time.

Right now, your fun entails sitting still on the couch with one of the babies on your chest while Spencer sits beside you with the other. Charlotte is taking one of her now rare naps at Spencer’s side. Both of you have to pee but Charlotte, Morgan and Blake are all content and it feels like you’re playing with fire if you dare to move.

Charlotte is the most amazing big sister. She insists they be included in reading time, so when their crying allows, you bring them into Charlotte’s room for storytime at night. She’s even tried to help you change a diaper but ran away when she realized it was stinky. And man are they stinky. Newborn poop is something else. Otherworldly.

During the first three weeks, you shower about five times in total. Your legs are hair as hell. Shaving takes too much time. And even though your weight is pretty stable, you still feel gross. Hygiene takes time and you don’t have it until about a month after they come home.

You’ve managed to get them on a similar schedule so they wake up and go to sleep within a few minutes of each other. Thank the gods Spencer did some research on how to sync up their schedules before they were born otherwise you’d be fucked.

Once they’re down for the night and Charlotte’s been read to (she’s very obsessed with the one about the two princesses that fall in love right now), you sink into bed beside the man you love. “I think we’ve got about two hours before they wake up again,” you say, mouth stretching out into a yawn. “Talk to me before we fall asleep. I feel like we haven’t spoken in 10 years.”

Chuckling, Spencer rubs his hand up and down your arm. “We haven’t even known each other ten years.”

“Feels like forever.”

“Yea, it does,” He sighs happily. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just talk to me. Give me stats.”

He pulls you into his lap and combs his hand through your hair. “Luckily, that’s my specialty. Okay, so listen to this-” Even through he can barely keep his eyes open you can hear the excitement in his voice. “Women with a higher body mass index are more likely to conceive twins. Obviously Ai is one of the exceptions. Anyway, higher body fat levels mean higher levels of estrogen which can cause the ovaries to release more than one egg at a time.

“Is that why it’s so hard for women to lose weight too?” You ask, annoyance tinging your sleep-deprived voice. “Like our bodies are holding on to fat because baby making?”

“Exactly. It’s bullshit, I know.”

He continues on, saying something about twins creating their own language, which you hope happens because that would be fascinating to watch. And then he talks about how twins can actually have different fathers, though it’s rare. You want to keep listening, but you drift off to sleep in his arms, only for you both to be rudely awakened by your screeching twins two hours later.

—

A week passes and Charlotte’s terrible twos get a little worse, but you and Spencer realize quickly that it’s because she hasn’t been getting enough attention, so you actively try to remedy that.

While Spencer is taking care of the babies’ feeding, you play with Charlotte. She’s getting into playing pretend now, so she’s using two dolls to reenact her two princesses book. You’re merely an audience member, but Charlotte needs to tell the story. As the days go by, you make sure one of you is taking care of the babies while the other handles Charlotte. Again, it feels like you and Spencer don’t speak for ages.

But you got through it once before, right?

It’ll just take time.


	31. Chapter 31

Somehow, Morgan and Blake are already two months old. They recognize your faces now, their gazes trailing yours and Spencer’s movements. Colors are starting to get more cemented in their view. They get bigger and bigger each day. It’s astounding how quickly they grow. But man do you need a break.

Spencer’s orchestrated it yet again, inviting his mother and your parents over to the apartment to watch the kids. Your parents have met Blake and Morgan before, but it’s Diana’s first time and she’s in awe. “I know they can’t technically look like you, but they have your eyes,” Diana laughs. “When you get home will we be able to spend a little time together before I go back?”

“Absolutely,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her medication is stable but he still sees twinges of her losing her memory, so even though he knows you’ll both be tired after your little day away, he assures her they’ll have dinner together before he drives her back. “We’ll be back tomorrow night, okay? For now, bask in the babies.”

“Oh, I will,” she coos.

—

As soon as you get in the car, you ask Spencer where you’re going, but he refuses to let you in on his little secret. He just assures you that it’s going to be a fun time and allows you to drift off to sleep in the passenger side seat.

A little over three hours pass before a bump in the road wakes you up. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve had since the twins came home. “Are we near Virginia Beach?”

“Yup. I know you said you used to go when you were a kid, so I figured you’d enjoy going back.”

You practically start to cry. “When the babies are older we should bring the whole family here.”

Spencer reaches over with his free hand and slips his fingers in yours. “Family. Never thought I’d have that.”

When you look over, you see his eyes wet with tears. “I know, but you do. It’s real. We’re real.”

“That we are,” he smiles.

—

After sunset, you pull into the hotel parking lot. It doesn’t look like a normal hotel. It’s not a Hilton or a Marriott. It’s a smaller-in-comparison place called The Tapestry that looks like a small winery. Rain-worn wood and white-trimmed windows. And it’s just a short drive to the beach so right after checking in you get back into the car and make the drive.

Most people are leaving because the sun has already set but instead you allow the gentle lapping waves to beckon you toward the shore. You sigh as Spencer cracks open the front windows and turns off the ignition. Though the waves are soft, no white caps indicative of an incoming storm, the second the world goes quiet around you, the sound of the ocean begins to almost purr, lulling you into contemplative relaxation. “Wanna cuddle in the backseat?” You ask hopefully.

Spencer is all limbs and smiles as he fumbles his way into the back of the car before holding his arms out to welcome you into his embrace. Even though you aren’t standing up, you somehow trip into him, smashing your face into his chest which causes you both to lose your breath in a fit of laughter. “This was necessary,” Spencer sighs.

With lithe fingers, he strokes up and down your arm, fingernail grazing your skin just so, sending shivers down your spine. Gentle or firm, his touch drives you crazy and suddenly a dirty thought enters your mind. “Sir?”

Immediately, you feel him stir. “Yes, love?”

“You never got to do any impulsive teenage things like have sex in the backseat of a car?” You give him a big, shining smile, knowing the answer and how the idea will roll around in his head.

Spencer takes a quick glance around before replying, his hands skimming under the hem of your shirt as he does. “No, too busy with school. Help me?”

Without a thought to who might see, you slip your shirt up over your head and throw it on the floor next to you, before dipping your lips to his neck to trail along behind his ear. He shivers and gathers you close, breathing heavily into your ear.

Reaching between you, you unzip his jeans. He sits up ever so slightly to allow you to push his pants down below his knees before sitting down again. When he grasps your waist and pulls your sex flush with him, you grind slowly against his cock, losing yourself in how quickly and easily you affect him.

Spencer bits down on your ear as you line his cock against your entrance, sliding down with ease, the mix of pleasure and pain shooting straight through you. “As most teenagers, I’m probably going to shoot off like a bottle rocket,” Spencer says, laughing into your mouth, his hips thrusting upward of their own accord.

“Me too, it’s okay.” You’ve had sex in front of a room full of people before and yet the idea of getting caught is revving you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. Out the back window, you’re keeping an eye out for incoming headlights. “I think someone’s coming.”

Spencer grabs your face and tongues at your mouth. “I don’t care. Let them see.”

You laugh and begin to swirl your hips in figure eights just as the car pulls up a few spots away. Thankfully, it’s not a cop, it’s only a horrified older couple that quickly backs up and drives away upon seeing you. Laughing, you throw your head back and caress your breasts, offering them to Spencer as he latches on. “I think you liked that a little too much,” he teases.

“Not me,” you say playfully, whimpering as he nips at your taut peaks. “Why would I like that?”

“Because you’re my little slut,” he replies. With both hands, he grasps your hips and holds you in place as he thrusts upward with no abandon, crying out your name as you tighten around him, shaking. Spencer rakes his fingernails up your back as your trembling subsides. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

“What? Exhibitionism?”

“Yea,” he laughs, kissing along your collarbone.

“I don’t know, but I suggest we do more of it. How about a movie theater? We’ll go to one we know won’t be packed, sit in the back and try to get each other off while being as quiet as possible.”

“You’re so kinky,” he says, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Just one of the many reasons you married me.”

Disentangling yourselves, you both redress as much as possible and drive back to the hotel, quickly stumbling into your room where the clothes once again fly.

—

The next morning, you lazily make love in the shower before going to grab breakfast. He brings you to the same restaurant you used to go to as a child, reveling in the big buffet and stuffing yourself full. “What’s next?” You ask happily, practically jumping up and down. Not that you aren’t still young, but having children puts your life in a different perspective. Having this time to breathe allows you to just be again, filling you with childlike joy.

Spencer reenacts your trips with your family step-by-step, first taking you to the Virginia Aquarium. You’d always loved watching the sea turtles, so you sit there for nearly two hours, in silence, with Spencer’s arm wrapped around you.

The entire day is planned. He takes you to lunch and then for a walk through the state park before driving you to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens. As you glide along the path hand-in-hand, Spencer leads you through a maze of colorful flowers, butterflies fluttering delicately all around you until you reach a gazebo practically crawling with red roses.

Underneath the sprawling ivy and red roses, Spencer gathers you close and pulls out a smallish velvet box, definitely not a ring, but something sparkly. “You proposing again?” You laugh.

All he does is smile.

When you open the box, the gleaming metal catches the sun’s rays and brings attention to the heart lock. It’s sterling silver with rose-gold accents and has a key sitting just beside the heart. Spencer steps closer, slipping the bracelet out of its box and around your wrist. “With three babies, I know life is hectic and we don’t always get to do the things we used to do, so I bought this. Every time you look at it, I want you to take comfort in knowing that you’ll always be mine.”

As your eyes fill with tears, you pull him into a heated kiss, only breaking away when you hear someone else approaching. “Thank you, Sir. I’m where I’m meant to be.”


	32. Chapter 32

Ironically enough it’s you that settles into your new routine fairly easily. Spencer is the one having a hard time adjusting. As per usual, he’s teaching an insane number of classes (probably due to the fact that you’re now working part time so you can spend more time at home) and trying to be a present father to a nearly three-year-old toddler and two four and a half month old babies. It’s a lot to handle.

After grading papers one night, finishing up just as you get the kids to bed, Spencer turns to you in desperation. “I’m losing it,” he says matter of factly, laughing at how exasperated he sounds.

Giggling, you walk up behind him and bend down, wrapping your arms around him, your fingers trailing the little bit of chest hair peeking out from his shirt. “What can I do for you, love?”

“I want you to help me shut my brain off.” He hesitates, clearly having an idea of his own, but decides to put the ball in your court. “Have anything in mind?”

“I do,” you say, whispering in his ear. “Remember that cock cage I bought? Wanna experiment?”

Even after all you’ve done and all you’ve seen of each other, physically and emotionally, he still blushes. “What were you thinking?”

Twirling around to sit in his lap, you tell about all the research you’ve been doing in case he’d ever want to venture down this road. “Nothing much for tonight. Just locking you up and seeing how you like it. If you do like it, we can play around with your wearing it for an increasing amount of time over a couple of days. And then if you still like it, I have an idea for what we can do next week.” Your eyes gleam with the picture in your head and it makes Spencer laugh.

“Sounds good to me.” You pull him up by his shirt and drag him toward the bedroom, kissing him all the way before you turn around to search through the closet, finally finding what you’re looking for.

“We need a locked chest for this stuff now. I DO NOT want Charlotte exploring through our things and finding this,” you laugh.

“Oh, fuck no.” Spencer falls back onto the bed from laughing so hard, only ceasing his laughter when you clear your throat, the cage in hand. “Oh, that does look scary. But I’m intrigued.”

Getting it on and secure is…a feat. But you manage. “You’ll wear it until we go to bed in a couple hours. And if you like it, then you’ll put it on tomorrow as soon as you come home.”

“Mmmhmm,” he says, mumbling into your mouth as you press a chaste kiss on his lips. Don’t want him getting worked up right now.

“Now go fold laundry while I do the dishes.” You slap his leg playfully.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs.

After finishing up in the kitchen, you find Spencer in your room putting away clothes, but as he moves to grab a hanger from the closet, he stops, stilling himself and taking a deep breath. “You okay?” You ask.

Spencer nods. “Just umm…trying to control myself,” he laughs softly. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“You’re in for a rough week,” you reply.

—

Over the next few days, Spencer returns home and immediately puts on the cage, asking you periodically if he can take it off and touch himself, to which you consistently reply no. It’s on day five that you challenge him to wear it to his late night class.

He texts you later while his class is taking a test. “This is hard.” His text states simply.

“What? Your cock? Or wearing the cage?” You smile to yourself as the three bubbles indicate his reply.

“Both. Can I please, please come when I get home? It’s been five days and I want to explode.”

You tease him so more, telling him that he’s gone longer without an orgasm before.

“Yes, but I was physically restricted from doing so! Please?!”

“Mayyyybe.”

A few hours later, he returns home, practically begging on his hands and knees. Sitting down and tugging him up onto the couch next to you, you comb your hand through his soft brown hair, reveling in the desperation that lurks in his eyes. “How about this? I give you one more test. You pass, you come. You don’t pass, you don’t come for another two days?”

Spencer’s eyes go dark, you can tell his dominant side is fighting with the lack of control, but he does want this and he knows you do too. “What’s the test?”

“After we get the kids to bed tonight, I put a timer on my phone. If you can make me come, with just your tongue, in under three minutes, I’ll take that cage off you and suck your soul out through your cock. If it takes you more than three minutes, I still get to come and you have to wait two days.”

With a strained yet gleeful smile, Spencer gives you a kiss. “You’re on. Meanie.”

“So mean.”

Thankfully for Spencer, it’s easy getting Charlotte, Morgan and Blake to bed. You place Blake down and quickly pull out your phone, setting a timer and showing it to Spencer as he gently lays Morgan down on the soft crib mattress.

Quietly but quickly, your desperate-as-all-hell husband yanks on your hand, practically throwing you over his shoulder as he runs toward the bedroom. When he throws you down on the bed, you screech with laughter, muffling the sounds with your hand as Spencer yanks your pajama pants down and off, flinging them against the wall. He removes his pants and you see him straining against the cage. It can’t be comfortable. His hair is a mess, his eyes are almost black with lust and he looks like a maniac, but you both laugh through it all. “Hit that timer. Because it’s happening.”

As soon as your finger hits the timer, Spencer wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you toward the end of the bed so your ass is sitting at the edge.

“Hands behind your back, Sir. I said no hands.”

Although he’s losing his mind, he knows what it takes to make you scream, starting out slowly, his tongue swirling around your clit, teeth scraping, lips pursing. His shoulders are tense with the pressure of keeping his hands behind his back. But he manages, watching as the numbers tick down on the timer. As soon as it hits two minutes, he licks stripes up your pussy from ass to clit, nipping at you with his teeth along the way.

You buck into his mouth, whimpering when he almost buries himself in you, tongue wildly fucking into you. “Fuck, so good, Spence. You’ve only got 45 seconds left. But I have faith.”

Growling into you, Spencer pushes himself into you still, the tip of his nose putting pressure on your clit as his tongue thrashes from side to side. He smiles when you grab his hair, your legs clamping down around him. “Good boy,” you say huskily.

You grasp his face in your hands and pull him toward you, tonguing into his mouth. “Sit. You’ve been a good boy.”

Spencer does as he told and collapses back, his cock twitching at the slightest touch as you remove the cage. You drop to your knees between his legs and move from domme to sub once again with ease, looking lovingly up at him as you speak. “Would you like to use my mouth, Sir? I think you’ve earned it.”

Grunting, he grabs your head and demands you open your mouth. When he thrusts up into your mouth, you gag and laugh, which only makes him more crazed. His hands are firm, keeping your head in place while he uses your mouth, his thrusts so erratic that he stands up and pushes your head against the dresser, each thrust softly knocking your head into the wood behind you. “Going to come down that little throat. You going to swallow it like a good little slut?”

The moment you mumble your answer around him, he seizes above you, the tangy taste of him hitting the back of your throat. Gulping it down, you look up and smile. His look of pure relief is everything you wanted for him when you started this whole thing a week ago. All that exists in his mind is you and the warm heat of your mouth. Maybe he knows your name and his, but that’s about it.

Pulling off him with a satisfied pop, you stand up and wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss. “So, did I help you shut your brain off?”

Spencer smiles, his voice unable to say what his brain wants.

“You want to use that again some time?” You ask, eyeing the cage on the floor.

He answers with an emphatic yes.

Success.


	33. Chapter 33

With three rapidly growing children, your dynamic is much different than it was when you met, but it remains, in ever-evolving ways. Charlotte is somehow just over three years old now (the time has seriously flown by), running around the apartment like a twister in the Midwest. Blake and Morgan are six months old. And now the apartment is feeling especially small, so although scary, and another big step in your little world, you and Spencer start to look at houses about a half hour outside the city.

Spencer chooses your outfits, down to the lingerie, every single morning, ensuring that you feel some sense of his dominance every day. Today, he chose nude lace for underneath your jeans and green tank top.

Since you have a day off and Spencer’s only class is later tonight, you decide to take the kids to the park, and invite Ai and Kyle to come visit with the twins. Now seasoned parents, you manage to get all three of the kids and yourselves ready to go in about an hour.

Ai and Kyle will be able to meet you in 30 minutes and the park is only a few blocks away, so you sit Charlotte in front of the TV and put the twins in their playpen to watch Spongebob for a few minutes. “They’re occupied for a minute,” Spencer whispers, grabbing your hand and leading you behind the kitchen counter. “Come here, I have an idea.”

Charlotte is reveling in Spongebob and the babies are playing with each other, so they are none the wiser when Spencer dips his hands into your jeans and above the lace he picked out. “I was hoping we might have some time today. So, when we have a few minutes, I’m going to edge this pretty little pussy of yours. Above the lace of course. If you can keep yourself from coming, I’ll repay you after they go to sleep tonight.”

“You’re on, Sir.”

Spencer laughs against your neck as he slips his pointer finger between your folds over the lace. The friction sends an immediate shiver through your body. The television fades into the background as Spencer works his magic. With practiced precision, he switches between rubbing against you and tapping your clit, which leaves you clasping your legs together in desperation within minutes. The minute Charlotte turns around and asks about the park, he pulls his hand away.

With a frustrated smile, you gather the kids up and head out, your mind spinning with what’s to come later.

—

As soon as you get to the park, Charlotte runs toward the slide, squealing with happiness as her soft brown curls bounce up and down. She looks so much like Spencer. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ai and Kyle approaching, eyes brimming with tears at how much the twins have grown. They’ve seen them in pictures and videos, but this is the first time since they were born that they’ve had time in their schedules to see them. “They’re so big already,” Ai says softly, brushing Blake’s hair out of his eyes. All of you, even Ai and Kyle, take turns playing with Charlotte on the playground. She’s the captain of a pirate ship, but makes all of you take turns steering the boat.

While one of you plays with Charlotte, the other three have the chance to catch up, learning all about how the young couple is fairing during their first semesters in college. “We don’t sleep. Pulling all-nighters all the time,” Kyle laughs, bouncing Morgan up and down on his knee. “But I’d imagine you guys are in the same boat.”

“Absolutely,” you laugh. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Kyle is holding Morgan, Ai has Blake and Spencer is steering Charlotte’s pirate ship, allowing you to sit back and sigh contentedly. This is your unique little family. And it’s your everything.

—

After Ai and Kyle give the twins and Charlotte a hug and kiss goodbye, you all head your separate ways, with promises to get together for more park time soon. As soon as you get home, Blake and Morgan are in desperate need of a nap, and Charlotte had so much fun at the park that she decides she needs to “relax” and asks for a cup of apple juice on the couch.

With them once again preoccupied, Spencer pulls you into the bathroom, pushing your jeans down just below your knees so he can lick at you above the lace. Little kitten licks, teasing at the edges of the lace near your skin make you into a whimpering mess within minutes. But instead of giving you that sweet relief, he pulls away, chiding you for how wet you are. “By tonight, these panties are going to be disgustingly soaked. And once the kids are asleep, I’m going to rip them off, shove them into your mouth and fuck you senseless. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Sir. I can’t wait.”

“Good, that means unless you have to use the bathroom, no wiping away that sweet evidence. I want it soaking through the lace by tonight.”

You feel the heat flush between your legs and pull your jeans up before returning outside to Charlotte passed out on the couch. Throughout the remainder of the day, you do the dishes, the laundry, and clean up the myriad of toys that have taken over the apartment floors like a minefield, edging you twice more in the process.

After feeding Blake and Morgan, Spencer pulls you away from starting dinner to bring you in the bedroom one more time before he has to leave for class. When he slides his tongue over the dampening lace, he moans. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper, peeking out from where you stand just near the bedroom door to keep an eye on Charlotte. “Can I ask you to do something for me, Sir?” You whimper just as his eyes lock with yours.

Nodding, he stands up and edges you the rest of the way with his fingers. “What do you need, love?”

“I’m feeling especially slutty today, Sir. I was wondering if I could make you come right now, into my panties, so I can keep you with me while you’re in class.”

Spencer makes quick work of undoing his pants and pulling your hand toward his hardening cock. Stroking, you arch your neck into his open mouthed kisses, quietly encouraging him to mark you with his teeth. Once he’s on the edge, he takes control, making himself come as you pull your panties away from your body and bite your lip. “Such a disgusting little slut,” he laughs. “I’ll be home in a few hours. Keep yourself nice and edged for me. Every hour or so. Don’t come. I’ll know.”

He says it all in clipped tones before redoing his pants, running out of the room and giving Charlotte a kiss goodbye. “Take care of mommy, okay?”

“I will!” She says, waving with all her might. 

—

With Spencer out, you change the babies and return to making dinner for you, Charlotte, and Spencer for when he gets home. You quickly boil some pasta and heat up some sauce on the side. Charlotte likes dipping the noodles into it.

Once their bellies are full, you set them all up on the floor and allow Charlotte to take the lead. She’s very much into playing pretend right now and it’s amazing to watch how her little mind works. “Hold Morgan and Blake,” she instructs. “I’m a bus driver.”

“Oh really?” You ask. “Where are you taking us?”

“School, of course!” She takes her seat in front of you and pretends to drive. Eventually, she decides you’re all in a castle and she has to come rescue you before the babies get cranky again. “Can I help?” She asks when you get up to change their diapers again.

“Absolutely! Follow me.”

She pads behind you happily, entertaining Blake while you change Morgan, who’s now screeching. But once she has a clean diaper she’s good to go again. And Blake was apparently only crying because Morgan was, because his diaper is clean. “Twin thing, huh?”

He looks at you quizzically before farting. “Ewww,” Charlotte laughs. “Babies are gross.”

“But they’re cute,” you reply. “Right?”

Charlotte nods and asks if they can go play again, so you carry them out as she puts her stuffed animals in a circle and tells you where to play the babies. “I’m driving the long car.” She gestures with her arms.

“A limo? The babies are in a limo? Why?”

“Why not?”

“You know what, I didn’t even think of that,” you laugh. “Can you keep an eye on them while I go to the bathroom?”

“Yup!” She gives them both a toy to keep them preoccupied while she takes her place as the driver.

Slipping into the bathroom, you quickly edge yourself. You lost track of time, so this is the only time you’ll be able to do it before Spencer gets home, but you don’t think he’ll mind. Just as you’re about to come, you hear him at the front door, rip your hand away and wash your hands. “Good class?”

He leans in to kiss you. “Yea, great one actually. What’s Charlotte doing?”

“Driving the babies in a limo.”

“Why?”

“She said why not.”

Spencer laughs. “She’s got a point. Have you been doing as I asked?”

“Just now, I lost track of time. But don’t worry, as soon as they’re asleep, you can use my holes in whatever way you want.”

“Fuck, I love you.” He smiles.

—

Due to her midday nap, Charlotte has no desire to sleep, making it especially difficult to get her to stay down for the night, but after Spencer reads to her for nearly an hour, she drifts off. Blake and Morgan are already asleep, completely tuckered out from their big day.

In the hallway, Spencer holds you close, taking a moment to breathe.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yea.” His eyes soften when his eyes lock with yours. “Just taking a minute to realize how lucky I am.”

Cradling his face, you kiss him softly and walk backward toward the bedroom. “We’ve built a pretty amazing little life for ourselves haven’t we?”

“Perfect. More than I ever thought possible.”

He tickles your sides, turning you into a giggly mess within seconds. In an instant, his eyes go from soft to dark, storm-filled, as he eyes your body hungrily.

Without even being told, you strip and get on all fours on the bed. Spencer picks up your panties and once again teases you for how wet they are. “Open up.”

The panties taste of you both. It’s not the most pleasant feeling having them in your mouth, but knowing how desperate you look and how much Spencer loves it that makes you want to keep them in. As he climbs onto the bed behind you, you allow yourself to zone out, sucking on the lace as he slips himself into your sodden heat.

The squelching sound makes your eyes roll back, your hips doing the same in search of the friction you so desperately crave. “Just relax,” he says softly. “Melt into the bed.”

Each time he speaks, you feel yourself being pulled down into that sweet oblivion. He thrusts in and out of you rhythmically, laughing as he watches your wetness slip down your thighs. “Such a little slut.”

“Yours,” you mumble in reply. It’s the only word you know.

Spencer leans forward, pulling the panties out of your mouth and dropping to the floor. He pushes you toward the edge of the bed, so your head is hanging over. “Now keep that mouth open while I fuck you.”

He’d positioned you in front of the mirror, so now you can see yourself, mouth slack and eyes glazed over as he thrusts behind you.

Groaning, Spencer grabs your hands and holds them behind your back with one hand, using the other to scratch your ass. “Gonna make you come around my cock. What are you?”

“Yours.” You sigh again.

As a string of saliva makes its way to the floor, you tremble around him, your eyes rolling back while Spencer holds you steady. You’re still shaking as Spencer turns you over and gets off the bed to stand over your head. “Open.”

Your mouth falls open of its own accord, welcoming the feeling of his thickness on your tongue. Bit by bit, he slides into your mouth, taking it slowly because he knows you’re not in the right space to take care of yourself. He has to do it for you. “Little wider, love.”

Again, your body complies, opening your mouth wider as he slides all the way down. “Such a good girl,” he chokes out. “Can you feel this?”

He places his hand on your throat, where he can feel himself thrusting.

Moaning in reply, he lets go, coming thick into your throat. When he pulls out, you smile. “Yours,” you whisper.

Gathering you into his arms, he cleans you both up and sits next to you in bed, combing his hand through your hair as he replies. “Yours.”


	34. Chapter 34

Having three kids is hard. Worth it, ten times over. But still hard.

Spencer’s classes start to pick up again, finding that one semester with a light caseload and the other with a heavier one seems to work for his brain. It keeps him happy, feeling useful at work and at home. He continues to choose your clothes, even your nighttime ones now. And on your days off, he gives you a schedule of what to do and when (with obvious disparities to account for the unexpected nature of a toddler and twin babies).

Having him tell you what to do allows you to be, and if you ever feel like his control or the schedule aren’t working for you, you discuss it and switch things up so that you’re both happy. It’s work, so much work, but Spencer’s your partner in every way; there’s no one else you’d rather do the work with.

Quickies are the norm at this point in your life. On the few occasions, where your parents or a member of your BAU family watches the kids, you go all out, doing the things you can’t during your busy lives as parents.

Once the kids are asleep, after a long day where both of you worked, you practically fall into bed. You’re tired, but you want that closeness, so you ask Spencer to cuddle naked, which he’s all for.

Your skin slides against the cool sheets. “I’m sleepy,” you chuckle.

“Me too.” Spencer yawns. “I have an idea though. Very low energy. Want to try?”

“Mmmmhmm.”

Spencer grabs his phone and pulls up a porn site you frequent. “Pick something,” he says.”

Slowly, you scroll through the endless pages of porn and settle on something with Sir in the title. It involves a beautiful brunette down on her knees sucking her Sir’s cock. “How ‘bout this one?” You giggle. “If I had the energy I’d be doing this myself right now.”

Spencer’s low rumbling laugh sends shivers down your spine. “Next time we have a babysitter. Now relax.”

Closing your eyes, you melt into the blankets, languidly rolling your body against the soft material as the appreciative grumble of the man in the video brought you deeper into your fantasy. You whimpered when Spencer’s hand danced down the side of your body, fingers fluttering against your pussy.

He props the phone up against the pillow, leaving his other hand free to snake around your head. When he slips two fingers into your mouth, you start to suck, groaning as you hear the woman in the video gag. “Fuck, Sir.”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Just suck like a good little girl.”

You do as he says and devolve into a writhing, whimpering, sweaty, slutty mess, sucking on his fingers and rolling against the sheets as Spencer’s fingers slip into your pussy and press against your clit. Craning your head toward him, you plead with him, your eyes silently begging for the release that’s so close and yet so far.

When he smiles, almost cruelly, you remove his fingers from your mouth and press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “Oh why not,” he teases, biting down on your earlobe. “You’ve been such a good girl lately.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As he curls his pointer and middle fingers against your fluttering walls, you gasp, shuttering. He holds you tight and tells you how amazing you are. What a good girl you are. What a good sub, a good wife, a good mother.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Charlotte screeches as she barges into your room. “You okay, Mommy?”

Oh shit.

Spencer immediately removes his hands from you, a look of horror upon his face. He can’t think of anything to say, glancing at you to take the lead. Your big bad BAU protector and rambling genius and he can’t find the words to say to his 3-year-old about sex. “I wasn’t crying sweetie pie,” you say, pulling the blankets up tighter to make sure she won’t see anything scarring. “Daddy and I were spending some quality time together and he made me laugh.”

She wipes a tear from your eye you didn’t even know was there. “But you’re crying.”

“Sometimes you laugh so hard you cry.”

“Oh. So you’re happy?”

“Very, my little flower.”

Spencer reaches over you and tousles her hair. “Want Mommy and I to come back to your room and read you another story?”

Charlotte nods vigorously as a yawn takes over her little body.

“Okay, go get back under the covers and Mommy and I will be there in a minute.”

As fast as her tiny legs can carry her, she sprints out of the room and into hers. “How long do you think she was there?” You ask. “You don’t think-?”

“We can only hope.”

You both pull on some clothes before stepping out of the room, and you turn to him to smack him on the shoulder. “All the times to go speechless, by the way!”

“Sorry, I panicked!” He whispers, stepping in the direction of Charlotte’s room.

“You’ve talked down serial killers and psychopaths and that makes you panic?”

“Yea,” he says sheepishly. “Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, I’m judging you. Let’s hope we didn’t scar our three year old.”

When you opened the door, she smiled at you. “You were nakey.”

Uh oh.


	35. Chapter 35

After stepping out of the shower, you wrap a towel around yourself and scamper across the hallway. Spencer’s feeding the babies and preparing Charlotte’s breakfast before your day out.

On the bed lay your red cotton panties and wireless bra. With all the running around you’re going to be doing today, he wants you to be comfortable. You bite your lip and slip them on before stepping into the slightly ripped, black jeans he picked out. Completing the ensemble is an old t-shirt of his, a Metallica shirt that he’s had since he was in his 20s and he refuses to get rid of. He loves seeing you in his clothes.

Once your outfit is complete, you go back to the bathroom to dry your hair and put it up in a messy bun the way he instructed. “How are my babies doing this morning?” You ask, heading outside. Charlie is eating some cereal and milk and getting most of it on her pajamas. Thankfully, Spencer thinks two steps ahead and hasn’t gotten her dressed yet, knowing she’d get messy.

“Good, mommy,” Charlie says, wiping milk away with a napkin to her right. She’s starting to say an L sound rather than a W. She’s been practicing. “Morgan and Bllll-akey are messy.”

Pot meet kettle.

As soon as Charlie is finished eating, she drags you inside to help her pick out an outfit while Spencer changes diapers and picks out some outfits for the babies. It’s going to be an exhausting but fun-filled day. In addition to Ai and Kyle joining you later in the day, you’re getting together with the entire BAU for a picnic.

—

On the way to the park, Charlie practically bounces in anticipation in her car seat. Morgan and Blake are content at the same time, which is a miracle and a blessing all in one. “Guess, who’s here Charlie?”

“Auntie Em and JJ and Penny and Tara!”

“Who else?” Spencer asks, glancing toward the wooden tables. Everyone’s brought food, save for you and Spencer. They all told you to take it easy. “Who else do you see?”

“Unc-le David and Matt and Luke and Aaron! And my cousins!”

“Everyone’s here!” He says, slapping his hands to the sides of his face like Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream.’

As soon as you park the car, Spencer gets out to undo Charlotte’s seatbelt. She darts toward her seemingly never-ending group of aunts and uncles and cousins. She’s got all the love in the world. Grabbing Morgan and Blake in their carriers, you walk toward the rest of the group, embracing all in tired hugs. You jokingly fall asleep on Penelope’s shoulder. “How are all my little angels?” She says, grazing her finger against Blake’s cheek. “You tiring mommy and daddy out?”

“God, yes,” Spencer laughs, pulling her in for a hug before looking toward her right where Luke stood. “You’re treating her right, right?”

“Always,” he says, kissing Penelope’s temple.

Everyone starts to mingle and the twins get passed around from aunt to uncle and uncle to aunt. Even Jack, who Spencer just realizes in horror is now a teenager, takes a turn holding the babies. “You’re a teenager!” He says.

“Yea, Uncle Spencer. Time flies, huh?”

“You were this big two seconds ago!” He screams, sending everyone around you into a fit of laughter.

Aaron steps out from behind you with cold beers in hand for you. “Think of how I feel. I’m ancient.”

“You?” Rossi laughs. “I’m Methuselah! You’re all fetuses.”

Charlotte runs around with Matt’s brood of babies and Michael on the playground, while Henry and Jack hang around with the adults. Occasionally, the younger kids pull them in to play, and none of the adults are safe either. At one time or another everyone, Emily, JJ, Will, Penelope, Luke, Tara, Matt, Kristy, Aaron, David, Krystal, you name it, the kids insist they play.

Although it doesn’t seem like anyone is having an awful time. David in his glory as the doting grandpa, wrangling all the kids and chasing them around with the rest of the team while you, Spencer, Matt, Kristy, JJ and Will just relax at the park benches. “So how are you guys doing?” Will drawls, a knowing smile upon his face. “How’re three babies treating you?”

“So tired,” you say, sprawling out over Spencer’s lap. He playfully grabs your butt and you wiggle. “Happy, but sleepy.” You point toward Matt and Kristy in awe. “How do you do it? Five babies.”

“You just do it. What? You and Spencer aren’t going for your own soccer team too?”

Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t know if we can handle it. Three is downright exhausting.”

“Never say never,” you laugh.

“Oh, really?” His eyes light up. You love seeing that light, knowing you and your family together put it there. “Maybe one more. We’ll see.”

“Play it by ear,” you reply. “Definitely not for a little while though. What about you Matt? JJ? Are we planning on adding any more to the BAU bundle?”

JJ holds her finger to lip before pointing toward her stomach.

“No!” Spencer whispers. “Really?”

“Really. Last one though. Three is enough.”

After all Spencer and the team had been through together, it was wonderful to see them so relaxed, getting the life they deserved. While the team plays with the kids, you set up all the food they brought. It all looks delicious. Cakes, cookies, chips, side salads, burgers and hot dogs, which you’ll cook on the portable grill Rossi brought with him.

“Hey, Rossi!” Spencer calls. “You’ve got a lot of grilling to do. Come on over.”

As Rossi runs over, Air and Kyle pull up and get out of the car, surveilling all the people on the playground. “Are these all you two?” Kyle laughs, shaking Spencer’s hand.

“Yea, let me introduce you.” One by one, Spencer introduces his former teammates, their spouses, their kids. “This is my work family. The ones holding Blake and Morgan are Emily Prentiss and Tara Lewis. Everyone these are the twins’ birth parents, Ai and Kyle.”

Of course, they’re welcomed with open arms and all the aunts and uncles assure Ai and Kyle that they’re so loved here. “We can tell,” Ai says softly. “It was hard giving them up. But we wouldn’t have chosen any differently. We love being able to see them.”

Emily and Tara passed the babies along to Ai and Kyle. “You two are getting so big!”

Before you know it, day turns to night, street lights illuminating the playground where all the kids are finally starting to lose some steam. Ai and Kyle give the babies some kisses before heading off to eat, take a nap and then study all night long. “Thank you,” Ai says. “We’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

You press your hand to the side of her cheek, Blake sitting comfortably on your hip. “You don’t have to thank us.”

Once they’re off, the rest of the BAU leaves one by one, hugs and kisses all around until it’s only you, Spencer, Luke and Penelope left. “You two need any help getting home?” Luke asks.

Spencer shakes his head, eyes closed and practically asleep on two feet. “Us? No way. We’re experts now.”

“Stop growing, okay?” Penelope calls back as they walk toward their car. “You’re all getting too big.”

“Think of how I feel!” You laugh. Looking down to where the babies lay in their carriers, to where Charlotte ambles alongside her father, clutching on to her daddy’s pant leg, you smile to yourself. Almost immediately after Spencer puts Charlotte in her car seat, she falls asleep, the babies having passed out long before. “You have a fun day?”

Nodding, Spencer leans toward you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yea, I did. I’m tired. But there’s no one else I’d rather be tired with.”

“Same,” you whisper. “Wanna get the babies in bed and cuddle on the couch?”

“Sounds heavenly.”

—

At home, Morgan and Blake do little but squirm as you change their diapers and slip them into their pajamas. You sing a sweet melody as they stir before passing out again. As you approach Charlotte’s room, you hear Spencer reading to her. Even though she’s barely awake, she insists on being read to every night. “Goodnight, my little flower,” he whispers, pushing himself carefully up from the bed, ensuring he doesn’t wake her.

“Sweet dreams, Charlie.”

Leaning into Spencer, you both shuffle toward the couch and collapse into a heap of exhausted laughter. He pulls you to his side and starts to run his fingers through your hair. “How are you doing?” He asks, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Comfortable?”

“In our dynamic? Yea, absolutely. I think we’ve found a good balance.” Through babies, marriage, everything. “I love you so much.”

Spencer whispers, lazily tugging you onto his lap and smiling against your neck. “I love you more. No matter what, okay?”

“No matter what.”


End file.
